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FOE 1881. 



[ THB SALK 07 1 

(Bmm TIIL— TOL. ZXT.) 
€tMa : Rsr. J. P. BABNETT. 

" Speaking the truth in love."— Efhxbiaiis IT. 15. 




pbiktbd bt tatss alizakdbb and 8hbphxabi>» 

27» caAircBBT lanXi w.o. 


Editor of this Magazine has now to review the first 
year of his work. Modesty forbids more than a very 
slight allusion to what he has been able to do. He hopes 
that the imperfections of a comparative novice have been generously 
overlooked. In some respects the toil has certainly been much 
greater than he anticipated. It has comprised a very extensive 
correspondence, and, for the review department, an immense amount 
of reading. This latter item has sometimes smitten him with dismay^ 
especially as many of the books which have had to come under his 
notice have required deliberate thought as well as careful perusal. 
The work of reviewing would often have been easier if more space 
had been at his command. At the commencement of the year he 
invited contributions from all friends of the Magazine who were 
capable of enriching its pages. That invitation has been so liberally 
responded to as to involve him in considerable perplexity. He has had 
to r^ret the necessity of keeping many articles waiting for insertion. 
This has prevailed to such an extent as to have deprived him of the 
opportunity of giving the ordinary items of denominational intelli- 
gence, and of condensing the news from those fields of missionary 
labour which are not worked by our own Society. He will use his 
best endeavours to overcome this difficulty in the ensuing year. In 
alluding to it thus, he must not be regarded as ungrateful to the 
writers who have so readily and kindly flocked to his help. They 
have his best thanks ; but he begs them, and others who may be good 
enough to do likewise, to have patience with delays wliich may be 
inevitable. He ventures to infer that the papers which have appeared 
have been generally up to the mark from the testimonies to that effect 
which he has privately and publicly received. Scarcely a fortnight 

vi Preface. 

has passed without biingmg to him words of kindly appreciation — 
often from some unexpected quarter — and these have encouraged him^ 
He wishes he could popularise his pages without detracting from their 
solidity. He is not satisfied with his jprogress in that direction, and 
hopes to succeed better in time to come. Some good writers who 
could help him to do so decline to contribute to a '' denominational 
periodical ; " and of course they know their own interests best ! The 
circulation might increase more rapidly if the true Mends of the- 
Magazine would bestir themselves a little on its behalf. They axe 
earnestly urged to this effort for the coming year. 

The Editor has great pleasure in announcing that the January 
number will be adorned by a portrait of the late Dr. 18amuel 


E88AT8, fto. 

Editor*! Addresa 1 

lif e in JBaxiifiBt. By the Editor ... 3 
The Btudy ol NonoonformiBt His- 

toxT. By tiie Bat. B. WiUdnson, 

F.G.a 21 

The Sin of Bribery. By the Ber. 

B. QloTer 34 

Two Anawets to « Quertion of Im* 

portance to Young Men and 

Women. BytheE(Utor 55 

"GeosveBUot" 61 

The Life of Dr. BiuhnelL By the 

Ber. J. Stoart 7S 

«'The Sacred Books of the JSm^" 

By K B. UndfiijhiUt TJi.T) 30 

Derotional BefleciionB. BytheUte 

Bev. C. BaHhache 34^ 130 

Thriving Plants and Polished Oramer* 

4toie0. Bythe Editor .*« .97 

A Gleaner^s Handful. By the Ber. 

G. McMicliael, B.A 102 

The TeaxB of Jetva over Impenitent 

Sinners. By the Bey. G. Barker 119 
An Old Letter from the Siok Boom 

of Stdkes Graft College, Bristol... 125 
The Election of HinisMrs. By J. 

Bedford Hope 127 

Oqt Axmual Meetings 146 

The Beligiotts Inflnenoe of Ourlyle. 

By the Bey. W. Broek 151 

The Agnosticism of the Bay. By 

Professor McOosh 159 

The Son of Man Beraslbg Himself 

ajB the Son of God. By the Boy. 

Dr. Abbott 162 

The Belations of Christianity to the 

Human lOnd. By Ejpisoopos ... 167 
Practical Hints to tiie Members of 

our Churches. By the late Bey. 

James Webb 174 

The Poetry of Spring. By Epis- 

copoa 200 

Beligious Plays 206 

An EdnMe and its Lesson. By 

Kate I^^ Bussell 209 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 

By the Bey. B. P. Macmaster ... 222, 

311, 370, 508 

James Mursell PhOHiipo 241 

Dean Stanley's Christian Institu- 
tions. By the Bey. J. Stuart 252 

The late Edaraid MiaU. By Henry 

Bichard, M.P « 260 

Father Ghiniquy and the French 

Canadian Catholics. By the Bey. 

H. Smith 267 

'* I Neyer Attend Ciiurdi Meetings." 

ByAIeph 274 

Dr. Bmce's New Work on '*The 

Chief End of Beydation " 289, 399 

The BeyjsissL of the New Testament. 

By the Bishop of Gloucester 298 

Loye Stronger tnan Death. By the 

Bey. C. BtanfoRd, D.D. 308 

The Beyised New Te^tamont By 

the Bey. J. SInart 337, 481 

•'The Eyil One " : a Dialooie. By 

tiieEditer 345 

Kono(mf ormist Biography : John 

Howe. By the Bey. JB. Wilkin- 
son, F.GiS. 355 

Christ and the Child. By the Bey. 

. G. MoMichael, B.A. 364 

An Appeal to the B^ieyolent 375 

The late Dean of Westminster 390 

The Unauthorised Orders in France. 

By the Bey. H. Smith 407 

The Highest Power of Prayer. By 

Bay Palmer, D.D 416 

Mr. Thomas Cooper 421 

Lessons from the Life of Samson. 

By the late Bey. C. Bailhache 443, 489^ 
The Otiffin andDeyelopment of Tent 

Preaching. By Kate Pyer Bus- 

seU 456, 545 

The Twenfy-third Psalm. By the 

Bev. J. H. Cooke 462 

Where should We Begin to Be- 

trench? 465 

Elijah's Despondency. By the Bey. 

8. T. AUen 499 

Theodore Christlieb and G^erman 

Church Life. By the Bey. Joseph 

Cook 503 

A Pastoral Letter. By the late Bey. 

W. Allen 614 

T6Dinrson*s New Poem, " Despair." 

By Beta 540 

Transient Generations and an Abid- 
ing Earth. By the Bev. G. 

McMichael, BwA 551 

The Methodist CEcumenical Con- 

fersnce. ByELS 557 




_ FAOl. 

FoxgiveneBB, Human and Divine. 

B^ the Bishop of Peterboxough ... 15 
Ohzifltianity v. Science in Relation 

to Human Suffering. By the 

Bishop of Peterborough 64 

Humility in the Study of Divine 

Truth. By Dean Vaurfxan 109 

The Doxology of Jude. By the late 

Rev. W. Robinson 2U 

The Memory of the Just By the 

late Henry N. Bamett 391 

Daniel's Rejection of the King's 

Cknnmand. By the late Rev. R, 

Hall, A.M 450 


By the Rev. BL C. Leonard, M.A. 
Riu^l's Picture of Ezekiel's 

vision 96 

Gorreggio's Kctureof ti^e Maidonna 

Adonng the Child 143 

Leonardi da Yinci's Picture of 

the Last Supper 228 

Fra Angelioo's Picture of the 

Gmdfijdon 281 

— ^— Two Dominican Moziks 
visited by Christ disguised as a 

Pilgrim 422 

Titian's Picture of the Assump- 
tion 432 

Raphael's Picture of St. Cecilia... 464 
By L. M. D. 

« Thy Will be Done •• 127 

A Trilogy 204 

Stewaros 363 

Life's Mystary 528 

One Step More 213 

On the Lynn. ByE. C. Alden...... 266 

A Page from a Student's Diary 310 

Churdi and ChapeL By the Hon 

Mrs. Robert Butler 322 

^Out of Darkness into His Mkrl 
vellouB Light." Two Sonnets 
ByJ. P. B 470 



The Rev. C. M. Binell. By the 

Rev. F. H. Roberts 49 

The Rev. James Webb. By the 

Editor 148 

Lady Lush 193 

Mr. Richard Bassett. «A Green 

Old Age." By the Rev. W. T. 

Rosevear 433 

Rev. C. Laronu By theRev. A. M. 

Stalker 529 


Mrs. Thomas Horsey, of Taunton... 182 

Mr. O. G. Cutter, of Calcutta 321 

Mrs. Anne Stevens, of Southsea 420 


Lady Lush 188 

Lord BeaconsfidcL 240 

The Rev. S. Mamndng, LL,D 479 

Mr. Stephen Sale 479 

The Rev. John Roberts 480 

Mrs. J. A. SpUTgeon 480 

President Garfield 480 


The Ministry of Repentance and 
the Ministry of Faith. By the 

Rev. J. Clarke 407 

By the Rev. J. Douglas ... 318 

"Testament "or "Covenant?" By 
V. 468 


41, 87, 134, 183, 229, 283, 325, 376, 422, 

471, 521, 575 



JANUARY. 1881. 

(Shitxrr's ^bbrtisis. 

AVING accepted the Editorship of this Magazine, its 
readers will naturally expect me to open the first number 
of the New Series with a few words expressive of the 
solicitudes and hopes with which I enter upon my work. 
Whatever may have been the misgivings which I felt when the post 
was offered to me, they are too late now, and must be resolutely 
dismissed from my mind. I can already perceive that neither the 
responsibility nor the toil will be light Editorial occupations are 
not altogether new to me ; but, m the present instance, they have 
assumed a form with which I have not heretofore been practically 
acquainted. I hope to be able to adapt myself to their somewhat 
changed requirements without much difficulty. I am anxious to 
succeed, and shall neglect no possible effort to do so. May I not 
hope that the members and friends of our denomination Mrill 
eneigetically assist me ? I will venture respectfidly and implicitly 
to rely upon them. If they will rally round the good old periodical 
which bears their name it will rise, by Grod's blessing, to a position of 
influence and of usefulness to which it has always been entitled, but 
which it has not always enjoyed. 

Since the announcement of a change in the Editorship was made I 
have received many letters of congratulation, good wishes, and pro- 


2 Editor^ s Address. 

mises of effort to increase the sale. To the friends who have thus 
written I tender my cordial thanks. Not a few correspondents have 
favoured me with very frank suggestions as to what, in their view, 
would be calculated to make the Magazine more popular. I shall do 
my best to profit by their kindly wisdom. I do not despise 
popularity. If I did, some surly critic might say, " You are like the 
fox that thought the grapes were sour when he found that they were 
beyond his reach." Popularity 'cannot be too earnestly coveted or 
too perseveringly sought when it is. regarded exclusively as a medium 
of usefulness. It may, however, be purchased at too costly a price. 
An inordinate fondness for what is called '' light reading " is much 
too prevalent in our time, even amongst the members of our 
Christian congregations. This is a nattural concomitant of the fast- 
ness of the age. With the mass- anything that is slow, however 
sounds is felt to be uninteresting. The literature that is not *" racy," 
and that has not a large infusion of the adventurous and sensational, 
commands but scant attention. If to this disadvantage there 
be added a second — ^namely, that it emanates from, and is repre- 
sentative of, some distinct religious community — ^it is only too likely 
to eke out an existence but little better than that of prolonged 
starvation. What is to be done ? It is useless to fight against an 
omnipotent tendency. Perhaps, however^ it is not impossible to blend 
the solid and the smart together. I think I know a few writers who 
have displayed tihis happy and enviable knack, and I am not without 
hope that some of them wiU kindly answer to my call. One well- 
known friend appreciates the difficulty of the position. He says : 
*' If the Baptist Magazine is to rival the Sunday at Home, the 
Zeimre JSbwr, the Quiver, &c., it has, at the same time, to take care 
not to lose its old place^ Herein is the problem, which I sincerely 
hope you may. be able to. solve." I will do my. best. We have 
wiiteiB among us who caa. both, fascinate and instruct. Let me beg 
them to come to the help of aipenodical which has faithfidly served 
the interests of our holy religion, and which has been a trustworthy 
deponent oCttsB principles of our beloved denomination for seventy- 
tw^ yfaiB. It is. dd^ but it need not be decrepid. Why should it 
not renew its youth, and that, too, in all needful and legitimate sym- 

Life in Earnest 3 

pathy ^ti the altered tastes of to-day ? My own convictions will 
not allow me to go to any false extreme of change, and my impression 
is that such change as may be expedient should be gradual rather 
than sudden ; but I do crave for the Magazine such a popularity as 
may be compatible with purity of taste, soundness of principle, 
devoutness of feeling, and loftiness of aim. I invite contributions 
from gentlemeii and ladies on aU hands who have the literaiy gift 
combined with hearts that are true to the Saviour, and I ask oiur 
friends to put forth their best endeavours to multiply the: subscribing 
readers of the pages which I hope to supply for their pleasure and 


OW much of a man's life in this world is available for 
useful exertion ? His years are threescore and ten. 
Ordinarily, the first fifteen are lost in the thoughtlessness 
of childhood ; and not unfrequently the last ten are lost 
in the venerable repose of age. Losty we say. Let not 
too severe a meaning be put into the word. The earlier years of life 
havfe their proper relation to the succeeding ones. The play of 
childhood is necessary to the development of the man, and the 
radimentscpy, intellectual, and moral education appropriated to the 
same period is an essential process of preparation for what has* to 
be accomplished afterwards. So the later years of life, during which 
its more active forces gradually wane, need not on that account be 
unproductive. The serenity of patience, the solidity of faith, the 
brightness' of hope, the breadth, depth, and transparency of experience, 
and the admonitory power supplied by vivid and varied reminiscences, 
may combine to invest the elderly and the aged with salutary 
influence in the circles in which they move. But we are adverting 
now" to that portion of human life which can, under favx>urable 
circumstances, be devoted to strenuous and useful endeavour^— to the 
wotk which shall tell on destiny, and on the condition and experience 
of mankind. That portion comprises, at the best, only some five and 

4 Life in Earnest 

forty years. What can be done in that short time ? A city cann:ot 
be built ; a new idea can hardly be planted in the soil of human 
thought. A flower garden may be brought to perfection ; a wife may 
be loved, and a family reared ; but a great error cannot be uprooted — 
a great reform can seldom be accomplished — a great mission cannot 
be undertaken and advanced to its completion. Forty-five years — ^the 
utmost period of active service which any man can be justified in 
considering his own — is, as a rule, so insufficient for any really great 
enterprise that, on reflection, the soul is strongly tempted to say, 
" Let me not begin, seeing that I shall not have time to finish." 

Fortunately, it is only the weaker, the more timid, or the more 
indolent who reason thus. The sages tell us that the brevity of life 
should stimidate to industry instead of discouraging it, and in the 
consciousness of every one of us there is a ratification of that prin- 
ciple. No wise man argues that, because he cannot do eveiything 
which an . enlightened and noble ambition would prompt him to 
do, therefore he will not try to do anything. Ought the thing to 
be done ? If so, then, by the limitedness of my opportunity, let me 
set about it at once, and never rest till it is accomplished. The plea 
" I have not time enough," is the subterfuge of laziness, not the noble 
melancholy of discouraged aspirations. 

At any rate, so much as this is certain — that every man has 
time enough to do all that he is in duty bound to do. If our 
duty has not been done, we have either wasted time in idleness 
or have devoted it to undertakings which had no claim upon us. 

And verily, the amount of solid and useful work which can be 
done in a few years of this short life is enough to astonish us 
when we rightly realise it. The old man, sinking into the grave, 
and looking back upon his career, may well be thankful if he 
can see that a single year has been well spent. For he may be 
sure that, in that one year, by the grace of God, he has achieved 
imperishable triumphs, not only of godliness for himself, but also 
of godly power upon others ; that he has set in motion wholesome 
influences that shall act and augment for ever. 

We greatly err if — ^as many shallow thinkers and observers do — 
we re^Eird only the grander embodiments of success as the testa 
of a man's usefulness in this world. People say that Sir Christopher 
Wren was great because he built St. Paul's Cathedral ; that Shake- 
speare was great because he wrote so many immortal plays, and 

Life in Earnest. 5 

because Lis dramatic genius was at once more profound and more 

versatile than that of any other poet known to literature ; that John 

Knox was great because he smashed the Papacy in Scotland. Well, 

if greatness — ^itself tested by such stupendous achievements as these 

— is to be the test of a worthy and useful life, nine hundred and 

ninety-nine of every thousand of us have but a very slender 

chance! Greatness ts indeed proved by the definite, superb, and 

abiding results of power. You judge of a poet, not by his character, 

bat by his poems ; of an artist, not by his moral fidelity, but by the 

productions of his hand. You ask of a general, " What victories did 

he win? " of a lawyer, " What robes did he wear ?" of an architect, 

"What temples did he design ?" of an author, "What books did he 

write?" But of the man you ask different and far more radical 

questions. Whom did he love ? When did he weep ? On what did 

he smile ? How did he treat his neighbours ? Was he honest ? Did 

he often pray ? Did he live 

^ As ever in the great Taskmaster's eye ? " 
This love, these tears, these smiles, this fraternal, neighbourly 
courtesy, this honesty, these prayers, this high-toned, sober piety — 
what will you say of them ? That they stand for nothing ? That 
they are useless ? That, because they are insufficient to make the 
world stare with astonishment and shout with admiration, they are 
not worth cultivating? In reality, they are all things of power, 
elements of nobleness, and titles to reward, to peace, and to a 
beautiful though not blazing renown. We most truly judge of a man, 
not by the ostentatious monuments of his life, but by its gentle, 
hidden, silent influence. Do you think that a human soul will ever 
get into heaven by the credit of a great poem or of a magnificent 
picture? Nay, verily. By the sweetness, the sincerity, the moral 
earnestness, the God-fearing, Christ-trusting, and Clirist-loving spirit 
wrought within him by Divine grace, a man gets into heaven. By 
these things, also, he gets into our hearts. We love him, and trust 
ourselves to him, because of his purity, his unselfishness, his spiritual 
sorrows, struggles, and solemn gladnesses — ^that which has been woven 
into his heart, character, and life by steady fellowship with Him 
" who did no sin," who was " meek and lowly," who " came to seek 
and to save that which was lost," and who could truthfully say 
of Himself: " My meat is to do the will of Him that sent Me, and to 
finish His work." 

6 Life in EamesL 

The invisibilities of nature are among the mightiest forces of the 
mdyeiBe. The beams of light that penetrate all space and even all 
clouds — the dew that is diluted to infinite thinness that it may be 
absorbed by the tiniest flower — ^the sap that circulates through the 
body of the oak as the blood circulates through the body of man — ^the 
pzindple of growth — ^the law of gravitation^— these unostentatious 
agencies are the guarantees of all order, fruitfolness, and beauty. So 
with man. It is not the manifested outcome, so much as the inward 
•temper, of our life that decides what we are. A man may make 
himself known to history by some grand enterprise associated with 
his name, by some sparkling achievement, or by some showy monu- 
ment of genius or of skill ; but it is not by such standards that Gk)d 
will Judge us. " He looketh- not upon the outward appearance, but 
upon the heart." 

And, after all, there is nothing so lasting as goodness. John Keats 
said, "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever;" and 'we may say that 
a look of holy love, or .a^woid of truth, is a power for ever. The 
achievements of. genius are self-^wntained and mcmumental only ; 
purity, goodnesB,£Btith in God, Chnst-like benevolence, are evermore 
reproductive. . 1%e former abide simply as completed results ; the 
latter are the results of character, which become in their turn the 
causes of character also, and they bring forth &uit after their kind, 
in some cases thirty, in some .sixty, and in some, a hundredfold. They 
are seeds — the product of other seeds ; but they fall, into good ground, 
and yield haorvests of virtue, of piety, and of happiness, on which many 
souls live, and &om which, for ever, a wider soil shall in season be 

Life> then, though brief, is not necessarily a vain thing. It majr 
be vain ; with a great number of human beings, alas ! it undoubtedly 
is BO. They have in what they do no lofty purposes, no definite 
guiding principles, no supreme and thoughtful conscience. They 
^accept any pleasures that may happen to come to them, or seek such 
as may be congenial with their tastes ; and, if they find themselves 
in trouble, diey mopishly take it as a matter of course, and just bear 
it as well as they con ! " Gk)d is not in all their thoughfts." They 
have no grand conceptions of Providence, no high sense of duty. 
They are idle, without motive, aimless, irresolute, Mvolous, good for 

There is danger of even the better-minded amongst us foiling into* 

Lift Sn . EarnesL 7 

this lamentable degeneracy. To many, life is crowded with oppor- 
tunities of indulgence and with teijiaptations to indolence. On the 
other hand^ even earnestness itself is not without its peculiar perils — 
a thoughtless impetuosity, imperiouaness, impatience, uncharitable- 
ness, Yaoity. Such a mode of living is not to be coveted any more 
than the life which ekes itself .out in a lolling and perfumed. effemi- 
nacy. Wordsworth's words are worth pondeiing : — 

'* The sweet allmdng clouds that mount the sky 

Owe to a troubled element their forms, 
Their hues to sunset If, with raptured eye, 

We watch their splendour, shall we covet storms, 
And wish the Lord of Day his slew decline 

Would hasten, that such pomp majs ^oat on Jiigh ? 
(Behold, ahasady ihey fosget to ahiae— > 

Dis«oIv&*-and leave to .him who gazed a sigh. 
Not loth to thank each moment for its boon 

Of pure delight, come whencesoe'er it may. 
Peace let us seek — to steadfast things attune 

Calm expectation, leaving to the gay 
And volatileiheir love of tniuient bowers. 
The house that jcannot pass away beouzs." 

But if life is full of temptations to indolent Mvoltty and to yolatile 
inutilities, it is also. pregnant with encouxagements :to the .truly. and 
ardently aspiiuig soul. 

Emulation is . quite admissible, and is certainly very influential. 
We learn i^e force of this impulse best by observing it in cases 
where no de^er^or. solder. izn|)ulse obtoins — as in the athletic games 
of eld. . Nonewottld %htior the sake of fighting, or run.for tiie sake 
»f running ; but spectators were prosent to applaud the victonous, 
aad thus to enooucage. the competitors. There are in every legitimate 
aphere the traditions of heroes who have ennobled and glorified it, 
and by their fame men.maybei legitimately indujced to suffer the 
penalties they braved and conquered. Tins is true of every 
occupation — ^that of :tiie artiaan, the engineer, the tradesman, the 
lawyer, the politician, the poet. It is specially true of the. spiritual 
Ufe. The writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews follows up his great 
catalogue of the heroes of iiEuth with the stimulating words: 
''Wherefore, seeing we also are compassed about with so great a 
cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin that 
doth so easily beset uSf and let us run with patience .the race/that 
is set before. us, looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher .of our 

8 Life in Earnest. 

faith, who, for the joy that was set before Him, endured the Cross 
and despised the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the 
throne of God," 

Success in a worthy enterprise is always regarded as a title to 
honour. It is not the only title, though many think it so. There 
are many so-called failures which are in no sense to be despised. 
In this age men worship success with a very idolatry, without being 
at all exacting as to the means by which success is attained. In 
relation to such a question the career of a Beaconsfield ought to be 
carefully dififerentiated from that of a Gladstone, and many a 
comparatively obscure member of Parliament has lived an immeasure- 
ably nobler life than that of the late Prime Minister. Honourable 
success, however, is a worthy object of ambition. K the aim be true, 
right, good, it is surely matter for congratulation to be able to attain 
it, and the attainment is always the more praiseworthy in proportion 
to the difficulties which lie in its way. Success is the reward of tact 
combined with earnestness. It never comes by accident; to be 
realised at all it must be wisely planned for and energetically toQed 
for. One of our modem writers says of it in his strong way that 
" it may be unscrupulously bought, but when it is so it is damned 
even in its glory." Tact surely need not degenerate into a serpent 
cunning. It may simply concern itself with the adaptation of morally 
right means to morally right ends, with the proper estimate of the 
forces at command and of the forces which have to be resisted, with 
a foresight of contingencies, and with a readiness for all greater and 
lesser opportunities as they may arise ; and it must do so if failure 
is to be avoided. Energy of thought is as indispensable as energy of 
action. But thought is practically useless until it is translated into 
strenuous endeavour. The mere dreamer, however brilliant his 
visions, is good for nothing, and might just as well sink into the 
deeper slumber in which he shall lose his power even to dream. 
With no more stimulating stanza could Longfellow have ended his 
beautiful " Psalm of Life " :— 

''Let us, then, be up and doing, 
With a heart for anj fate ; 
Still achieving, still porsning, 
Learn to labour and to wait" 

Of Hezekiah it is grandly said that " in every work that he began 
in the service of the house of God, and in the law, and in the 

Lift in Earnest. 9 

commandments to seek his God, he did it with all his heart, and 
prospered." His prosperity is accounted for by his earnestness. 

But what is the source from whence this earnestness may be most 
amply drawn ? It is an intelligent, deep-hearted, all-controlling piety. 
It evidently was so in the case of the Israelitish King just named. 
Tlie single passage we have quoted respecting him supplies suflBcient 
proof of this, and his general history confirms the quotation. His 
great aim was to do all to the glory of God. Such a purpose will 
l^'enerate its own enthusiasm — ^will kindle and keep alive its own 
fire — ^will be like the bush which Moses saw, ever burning, but never 
consumed. How sublimely it wrought in the heart and life of Jesus, 
our perfect Exemplar, Himself the incarnate source of all true, holy, 
and mighty inspiration ! *' I have a baptism to be baptized with, 
and how am I straitened till it be accomplished." " He that believeth 
in Me, the works that I do shall he do also ; and greater works than 
these shall he do, because I go unto the Father." 

All things in Nature have their mission, and all things in Nature 

falfil their mission. 

'* How Btrange is human pride ! 
I tell thee that those living things 
To whom the fragile blade of grass, 

That springeth in the morn 

And perishes ere noon, 

Is an unbounded world ; 
I tell thee that those viewless beings, 
Whose mansion is the smallest particle 
Of the impassive atmosphere, 

Tliink, feel, and live like man ; 
That their affections and antipathies. 

Like his, produce the laws 

Ruling their mortal state ; 

And the minutest throb, 
That through their frame diffuses 

The slightest, faintest motion, 

Is fixed and indispensable 

As the majestic laws 

That rule yon rolling orbs." 

Even those orbs leave none of their appointed work undone : — 

'' Look on yonder earth. 
The golden harvests spring ; the unfailing sun 
Sheds light and life ; the fruits, the flowers, the trees 
Aiise in due succession ; all things speak 
Peace, harmony, and love. The universe, 

lo Life in Earnest. 

In Nature's silent eloquence, declares 
That all fulfil the works of love and joy — 
All but the outcast Man ! He fabricates 
The Bword which stabs his peace ; he cherisheth 
The snakes that gnaw hia heart ; he laiseth up 
The tyrant whsse delight is in his woe, 
Whose sport is in his agony.'* 

These two quotations are from a poet wlio, alas ! was mysteriously 
blind to the brighter revelations and the more genial hopes concerning 
humanity which are supplied by " the glorious Gospel of Christ ; '^ 
but his words concerning the fidelity of Nature and the failure of 
man are mainly true. Man's turpitude, however, has sprung from 
the abuse of a grand Freedom, which is inherent in his very being,, 
but which Nature has never known ; . and with such a freedom the 
restoration to fidelity is as blessed :as the obstinacy of failure i& 
grievous. '' This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, 
that Christ Jesus came into tlie world to %iaf0t sinners ; " and in 
proportion to the fulness with which sinners realise their salvation 
in Him, in that same proportion does His life, perfect in its beauty^ 
its benignity, and its blessedness, become their law. 

This life in Christ — ^the highest life possible to man — ^is not without 
its cross, any more than was His. But " if we suffer with Him, we 
shall also be glorified together ; " and " He is touched with the feeling 
of our infirmities," and knows how to " succour them that are tried." 
" Strong in the grace that is in Him," we shall find that " His yoke 
is easy and His burden light." Many worldly professions are mar- 
tyrdoms, witnessing not to a noble faith, but to a fatal foDy. The 
ballet-girl has to suffer acutest pains and fearfullest exhaustion before, 
by her grace of movement, she can give the delight which the theatre- 
goers crave. The " clown," whose business it is to make others laugh, 
is often a sad and weary man. Commerce may be likened to a 
monster Juggernaut, crushing thousands beneath its relentless 
wheels. We will not say that there are no difficulties in the path 
of the Christian, no sadnesses in his experience ; but the difficulties 
are worth the conquering, and the sadneases are holy and blessed. 
So, then, Qod helping us, we will not throw, away our life ; nay, 
rather, we will consecrate it afresh — consecrate it more trustfully, 
more lovingly, and nunre earnestly — to the Father who gave it, and 
to the Saviour by whom it has been redeemed. 



% ^0milj| f0r tht Iteto |jr^ar. 

** So soon as I shall see how it will eo with me." — Phil. ii. 23. 

AXJL writes under ciroumstanoeB of most touching interest. 
He is in prison^ and is anticipating a judicial trial It 
is near at hand, but lie cannot foretell the issue. Should 
he be condemned, his loved Philippian friends cannot see 
Timothy until aU is over ; should he be acquitted, the 
young £vangelist will speedily join them. "How" it will be is 
shrouded. Hope q)arkles in the Apostle's eye, but no word of 
certainty drops from his pen. Though inspired, he is not prescient 
touching his earthly future — ^a future teeming with interest both to 
himself and to his Mends. With chastened solicitude he wonders- 
tohfU will be its complexion. 

A kindred emotion, perhaps, fills our bosoms as we, to-day, enter on 
a fiesh instalment of mortal existence. We begin a New Year» 
'' How will it go with us ? " Shall we be permitted to travel through 
its twelve months ? If so, which of these shall we find bright, which 
dappled, which dark ? £eviewing the past, realising the present,, 
does not satisfy us. " Man is a projective creature.'" He wishes to 
look into the future — ^to descry *' coming events " as they " cast their 
shadows befora" How wiU 1881 go with us as to health ? Shall 
that be invigorated or impaired? Are our circumstances to be 
improved by gains or deteriorated by losses ? Will our dear onea 
continue, either by converse or epistle, to " take sweet counsel with 
us " as heretofore ? Will our interest in them, and their interest in 
Qs, be marked by steadfastness, be brightened by increase, or be 
shaded by diminution ? Is bereavement to darken any of our homes ? 
Shall the deepest impression left by those who may have to depart be 
the sweeiesi — " not lost, but gone before " ? Are old wells of 
enji^ment to be sealed and new ones opened ? What answers will 
tiie last day of the year supply to these inquiries ? We cannot tell. 

Every day of the year except this, its first, is hid frtmv us, — Science 
and art have prLvil^ed man with a, paeiially prescient eye. He 
predicts, with wonderfiil accuracy, a conjunction of planets, a comet's 
appearance, an eclips^ of sun or moon, a gale at sea, a hurricane 
on land, a course of fine or. unwelcome weather ; but to anticipate 
penonal experience tsanscends bis prerogative. The horoscope, even 

iz ' A Homtly for the New Year. 

of the Apostle, fails liim. Though writing affectionately to his friends 
at Philippi, he cannot say whether the next hour, or the next day, he 
is to be executed, or set at liberty, or sent back to prison. On 
a former occasion he said, " I go bound in spirit unto Jerusalem, not 
knowing the things which shall befal me there : zavt'^ (and this proves 
that he could see farther on that occasion than on this) "that the 
Holy Ghost witnesseth in every city, sajring that bonds and afflictions 
wait for me." 

It is not surprising that, to us, the future sJwtdd he veiled. — ^Its 
being so is in perfect harmony with our creature-existence. We 
liave no claim to an inspection of His plans who " givetli no account 
of any of His matters." To imagine that our puny hands can hold 
the plummet that shall sound " the deep things of God " is presump- 
tion. " It is His glory to conceal a thing." Hence the memorable 
rebuke which over-inquisitive disciples received : " It is not for you to 
know the times and the seasons which the Fatlier hath placed in His 
own power," plainly implying that the question they had preferred 
trenched on the Divine prerogative. Besides, in the then present 
aspect of the cause they loved, they had enough to engage their 
profoundest musings, without craving familiarity with that wliich the 
future sheuied. Thus the Christian now has, in his past and in his 
present, ample material for profitable meditation, more than enough 
to rouse, and fix, and absorb his thoughts, apart from venturing to pry 
into the sphere which is patent only to the Eye that " seeth the end 
from the beginning." How earnestly his Lord forbids solicitous 
anxiety (Matt, vi 3, 4). 

What already we know of God shovZd comfort our hearts in our 
ignorance of the fiUure. — We are living monuments of Divine good- 
ness. Were the sense of hearing rendered more exquisite than it 
generally is, instead of its being an avenue of pleasure, we should 
iind it an inlet of distressing pain. Thus, too, with the sense of 
seeing. If every day, every hour, and every moment, we gazed 
microscopically on our surroundings, we should almost tremble to lift 
one foot after another. Had the Creator, therefore, endowed our optic 
nerve with a telescopic power — commanding the sweep of our entire 
future, and vividly unveiling " how " all was " to go with us " — ^we 
43hould find ourselves the subjects of emotions the most outri. Be- 
holding the future laden with the wondrous blessings stored up for 
us by Him who loves us best, we should, probably, become restless 

A Homily for the New Year. j ^ 

and impatient— asking in querulous tones, « Why are His chariot 
wheels so long in coming ? " If, on the other hand, we could foresee 
and meaaure, and weigh all the sorrows certainly awaitin^r us we 
should either busy ourselves in trying to ignore them, or so exaggerate 
theur number and magnitude as to faint in the prospect— in either 
case kying ourselves open to the searching question, " Who hath 
required tliis at your hand ? " The Cross on which Jesus died is 
surely guarantee sufficient that, so long as we are here, we shall 
" see " mto the future just as far and as distinctly as the vision will 
promote our good both here and hereafter. 

TTt^A sack assured confidence, we shall frame aU our future plans in 
a spira of profound resignation.— ^ot knowmg what shall be on the 
morrow, our every resolve will be consciously, gladly, pendent on 
" If the Lord wni" Not only Scripture, but experience also, point* 
to this as our incumbent duty. Does not personal history supply 
instances not a few of our having fearlessly outUned a future which 
-had it been filled up as we determined— would, with blushes at 
our Ignorance, have constrained us to ask, " Who knoweth what ia 
good for man in this life, all the days of his vain life which Im 
spendeth as a shadow ? " 

A veiled future should check despondency,— Some, doubtless, are 
constitutionally disposed to indulge— ahnost to luxuriate— in the 
sombre and the sad. They hear, all along the vista of their 
untrodden steps, the croaking of birds of bad omen. Morbidly 
listening to the chatter, they feel disposed, not only to " hang their 
harps on the willows," but to break them altogether. So to employ 
imagination is at once to prostitute a noble faculty of the human, 
mind, and to cast a dark reflection on the Divine benevolence. As. 
reasonably may men attempt to describe the appearance, the mode of 
life, the manners and customs, and the general routine of the inhabit- 
ants of a planet they have never visited as venture, in their murky 
moods, to take possession of their eartlily future, divinely hid. The- 
one enterprise would not be a whit more irrational than the other. 
In our ignorance as to " how it is to go with us," let us gratefully 
appropriate the consolation — ^not the less real because trite — " It is. 
often the darkest just before the break of day, and, when the ebbing 
of the tide is lowest, the flowing is nearest." 

Since our future is veiled, let our present be all the more diligent and 
devout, — The one is in Divine keeping ; the other is largely in our 

14 A Hbmt'ly for the New Year. 

own. With the uncertainties of the fdture we have nothing to do ; 
from the obligations of the present we cannot discharge ourselves. 
" Take no anxious care for the morrow, for the morrow shall take 
thought for the things of itself." The farmer who — busying himself 
in would-be wise speculations touching the weather of next April — 
should neglect to attend to the work requiring to be done in the 
fields to-day, is grossly culpable ; but so is the Christian who, unable 
at present to see " how it is to go with him " by-and-by, folds liis 
arms in peevish idleness. "We exhort him to act on the advice so 
iinely given by a modem writer, " Fill the present with quiet faith, 
with patient waiting, with honest work, with wise reading of God's 
lessons of nature, of piovidience, and of grace, all of which say to us, 
* live in God's future, that the present may be bright ; work in the 
present, that the future may be certain.' '' 

Ld VJ& he thatikfid that, ihxmgh to us thefvture is veiled, to Ood it is 
radiant — ^To Him not " the shadow of a shade " rests upon it: He 
knows, not only all things that do exist, but all events that ever can 
transpire. His prescience is perfect, not only in the vastness of its 
sweep, but in the minutiae of its details. He wiU never understand 
more thoroughly, or think more accurately on, any matter than He 
•does now. Surprise or regret is with Him, therefore, impossible. 
Happy, consequently, is the man whose privilege it is to feel, " This 
God is my God for ever and ever, and will be my Guide even unto 
death.'* The man who, unlike the worldling, distracted by fore- 
bodings as to the future, " walks with God," rejoices (believing in 
Jesus) in the Divine favour, finds in every Divine attribute an object 
of grateful contemplation, reposes on the Divine promises as on the 
arm of his Almighty Friend, and, by daily fellowship with Him, is 
■" kept in perfect peace." 

Once more. To such a man, however veiled the remainder of his 
jpUgrimoffe here, Eternity is unshaded, — It is luminous to his eye. 
Though unable to handle, or even to finger, the mosaic of his future 
-earthly lot, he can '' lay hold on eternal lift" It is " brought,'' not 
only "to light," but within his conscious, joyous grasp: It is as 
surely his now and for ever as His word is true who said, " Because 
I live ye shall live also." Though Paul knew not •'how'* in a little 
while " it would go with him," he did " know whom he had believed,'* 
and could, therefore, with the utmost confidence, export goods to 
heaven, "lay up treasures there," and "in patience possess his soul,** 

Forgiveness f Human and Divine. 15 

until the invitation kindled music in his ear, "Come up, hither." 
Brother Cliristian, — 

« Tin Death thy weary spirit free, 
Thy Crod has said 'tis good for tiiee 
To walk by faith, and not by sight 

Take it on trust a little while ; 
Soon shalt thou read the mystery right, 
In the full sunshine of His smile." 

But if my reader be not a Christian, if he be still " walking contrary 
to God," can he contemplate, without deep emotion, how in time " it 
is " yet " to go with him," and how he shall be, and where he shall 
be, when " time shall be no longer " ? Oh ! let this New Year, my 
friend, behold thee commence the sublimest of all studies — ^viz., " the 
excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our Lord." Tlien shall 
earth and heaven " see it go wtll " with thee for both worlds. 
Southport. A. M. Stalker. 

[The Editor had the gratification of hearing the sermon (of which a somewhat 
abbreTiated report is here presented) preached by the Bishop of Peterborough 
before the University of Oxford on the afternoon of Sunday, October 24th. 
It was eyidently addressed to those (in our time an increaaing number) who 
endeavoiix to frame some theory of Divine forgiveness apart from an Atonement ; 
and it points out the dif&culties which such theorisers are compelled to face, 
but which it is impossible for them to surmount. It was very forcibly 
delivered without the aid of any manuscript Able defences of the Atonement 
are greatly needed just now ; and the Bishop of Peterborough has given to us 
one whidi is distinguished, not only by the eloquence for which he is renowned, 
but aha by much freshneas of thought and argumentation. We commend it to 
die cassfol and devout study of our readers, and especially to such among 
them! — if there be such — as have been perplexed by the momentous questions 
which the eminent preacher, in the course of it, has passed in review.] 

*f ¥oxgive U8 our debts, as we forgive our debtoxs.* — Matt. vi. 12. 

E who taught us these words is mcro^than. a Teaoher — more 
''' e^en than a Divinely inspired Teacher. We regard Him 
— ^in common with the whole . Catholic Church — as our 
Divine Mediator and Eedeemec We believe that He haa 
come to us in mercy, to teU ns that we may approach 
unto the Father, and to maike our approach possible — not only to 

i6 Forgiveness, Human and Divine. 

reveal to us the way, but to be Himsdf the way. The Church has 
ever placed Him where He claimed to place Qimself — ^between 
the human soul and God. All the great truths committed to her are 
inseparably connected with* the great central truth — ^that of the 
Incarnation. Ghristiamty does not call us to believe in the 
stupendous mystery of God becoming man without adequate reason 
for it. The publication of a new religion would be no sufficient 
reason. That might need an inspired teacher, but not an incarnate 
one—might need a Moses, but could not need a Christ. Proclaiming 
her belief in the incarnate Clirist, the Church avows that " God is in 
Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself, not imputing their 
trespasses unto them ; " and as she tells this in her great voice, she 
declares that, for us men and for our salvation, the " very God of 
very God " came down from heaven, and was incarnate, by the Holy 
Ghost, of the Virgin Mary. Inseparably these two ideas are linked 
together. Take away one, and the other will not long remain.- The 
time will then soon come — as many of our modem seers and prophets 
are anticipating — ^when men will no more agree to study the nature 
and person of Christ than they agree now to study the nature and 
person of Socrates ; and in truth it will concern them very little 
more to do so. 

It is, however, the doctrine of the Atonement and mediation of 
Christ that is most strenuously objected to, as a preposterous and 
barbarous addition to the grand and simple idea of the Father 
of our spirits forgiving our sins the moment we come to Him in 
sorrow for what we have done. It is said, "Do Tnen need any 
such mediation or intercession in order to exercise forgiveness ? 
What should have made God less placable, less compassionate, 
than a good man? What is this doctrine of the Atonement 
and mediation which relegates God to the old religion of fire, and 
pictures Him as an angry and unforgiving being, only to be appeased 
by sacrifice, and only to be approached by intercession and by a 
privileged mediator ? Why cannot you go back to the older books 
of your faith ? Why cannot you rise into the sublime idea of the 
prophets and psalmists of old, who, in their simple theism, took their 
station by the altar on which the smoking victim lay, and, looking 
upward, cried, 'Sacrifice and offering Thou didst not desire. The 
sacrifices of God are a broken spirit ; a broken and a contrite heart, 
O God, Thou wilt not despise ' ? If you had not made a barbarous 

Forgiveness^ Human and Dwine. ij 

addition to tbis simple idea, there would be no need for you, when 
you pray, to say, ' We are heard of the Father for the sake of the 
Lord Jesus Christ' " 

Let us boldly face this difficulty, for a difficulty it really is. Let 
us not say that we cannot aigue firom tiie analogy of human forgive- 
ness to Divine, because Qod's ways are not as our ways, nor His 
thoughts as our thoughts. That is true in some respects, but it is not 
tme as r^ards this. It is not true when God uses the same word to 
describe His ways and our ways ; otherwise His words would be 
both misleading and unmeaning. Be sure of this, that if the words 
"forgiveness," ''mercy/' "compassion," do not mean when used of 
God at least as much as they mean when used of men, they have no 
meaning whatever. Let us see, then, what is the real idea of human 
forgiveness, — by what difficulties, if any, it is beset, — and what are 
the kws which govern it among men as we try to ''forgive our 

In the first place, what is our Lord's teaching concerning 
forgiveness in the text ? What does He here tell us of sin ? 
He tells us that it is something that needs forgiveness, i,e,, 
that it is not merely a disease to be healed, or an imperfection 
to be remedied, but an offence, which brings with it a penalty 
which cleaves to the offender as a debt cleaves to the debtor until it 
is remitted. He tells us, further, that for this " debt " there is a 
possibility of remission. The forgiveness of sin is analogous to the 
remitting of a debt. Our Lord gives us this as the popular, ordinary, 
human idea of foigiveness ; it is the letting off to a man of the debt 
he owes, — the putting of him by the creditor, as far as he can do so, 
in the position he would have occupied if he had never contracted 
the debt Observe — and let me carry you with me if I can — our 
Lord's statement ia this : first, there is guilt ; secondly, penalty for 
that guilt ; thirdly, the possibility of the remission of that penalty ; 
and fourthly, a close analogy between the remission of that penalty 
by God to us and man's remission of debt to man. 

See, then, where this brings us. It brings us to the question how 
and under what conditions it is possible for us to forgive our human 
debtors, — those who have offended against us. 

Is this human forgiveness such a very simple operation for man ? 
Let OS take it in its simplest form. An offence is committed between 
two equals who have no other relation between them than that of 

i8 FargwMestf Hwtum and DwmA 

thaic aafcuxal homanity. Let as sappoBO' thst any one of you 
haa been so unfortunato as to hskim cammitted. some wrong 
against a fellow-man. The instant you do that, the man beoomes, 
in spite of yen and oi Umaslf, your cieditor* Ton are hk 
debtor for two great debtsr^the dabt of penatenee, and the debt of 
reparation. You ought to be sony £or wlu^t yoia have done, and yon 
ought to m^e ajueoda Toa 0W6 this double debt by virtue of a 
law that neither he nor you era set in motion, and that neither h# 
nor you can withstand-pxtlie law of yonr own coBsdenoe. There 
is that within you tha(»» when you have dooe wrong, claims fix>m you 
at once the debt — ^the penalty of rcpentasiee and restitution. There 
is an advocate of the msa you have wronged wtthin your own 
breast There is the voiM of eonaeienee that. becomes a voice ever 
crying to the throne of God. . li ia your adversary until you have 
made amends, and it gives you over to the^ tonnents of your own 
shame, that abides in your heart, and will not depart from it until 
you have '' paid the uttermost farthing.'' 

Now, it is quite true that the eieditor may remit the penalty to you, 
and you hold it to be the vecy noUest eharity if he does. What 
then? Is oZ^ the penalty lemitted? Have you escaped all the 
punishment of your act i He haa fbi;given you, bet luwe you, £ar 
that reason, forgiven yourself f Nay, is it not often the case that the 
very fulness and freeness oi his. f orgxveaess is a heaping of coals of 
fire upon your head, and that they are kindlsd and fanned into 
a flame by the very breath of his compasmnnJ Tou know it is so, 
and in all the better and finer natures it is ever most keenly so. 

Already, then, we have discovered this, tdiat between equals there is 
no absolute and entire rsoftisaon o£ sin possiUe. Behind the figure 
of the creditor, — even of the forgiviii^ eseditor, — there already begins 
to rise up, and to project itself upon our pith; the shadow of law, — 
of law which, because it is law, is pitiless^ untogiving, unchangeable, 
inevitable. Even in this simplest aad monfb mdimentaiy case of 
forgiveness, there is no absolute xemasskak 

Let us pass one step farthes-«to the.caoe of soeial forgiveneas. 
Suppose you and I are speetatoia of seme emel martyrdom, and 
we hear tjie martyr, with hia dying brealih, bieathing out his forgive* 
nesB and his blessing upoR his murdsnrs; weokL any of you feel 
disposed to take up that legacy of foigtveMBS^ and to repeat the 
blessing you had just heasd the maatyr pronowiee} Would you 

Forgamtess, Ht4man and Divine. 19 

not, rather, feel your heart stiized by the deepest and most 
righteous indignatioQ, calliiig for the very passion of justice upon 
his tormentors ? And would you not resolve and vow that 
you would not know rest. and. peace until you had avenged him 
of his cruel wrong ? Why is it that we could not forgive a wrong 
upon another? Juat &r this reason, that it is Aia wrong and not ours^ 
We are not merely speotators. of the crime; we are, by the fact of 
our being there; and of ouz being members of a society to which he 
and we beh>ng,yi«i2^ <kf the cnme ; and we have no right to remit 
the penalty. — And there is another reason. The instinct of self- 
preservation is strong ia our hearts, as it is strong in the heart of 
society. A society founded upon mere benevolence and upon a 
univeTsal foi^veness of offences could not hold together for a day. 

You see .that we have advanced a step. We have still the /oreditor 
to be paid, for we have. still, the law, and the person or persons who 
are to enforce the law. But observe to what small dimensions the 
personal element in thia eq[uation has shrunk. You see how great 
alieady loom& the idea^of lom. You see that the debtor and oreditorL 
are already becoming both together debtors to the great, inexorable, 
universal law that binds the creditor to punish, and binds the debtor 
to suffer. In this aspect^, you see. that human forgiveness, is not > such 
an easy thing. The criminal has little to fear from the anger of his 
judge who is enforcing the law; but for that very reason he hash 
nothing to hope &om his compassion* It is law that we are coming 
more and more in contactwith; and less and less with pexBonality. 

And now one step, and only one step, farther. Let us suppose 
that the criminal has paid . the exax^d penalty — ^paid the penalty 
that he otn pay — and Uvea Ha has given, in. the way of reparation 
all that society ckiias.£rom.h]m. But ia he now free &om penalty- 
Does the society that foigivea him, give him back what it was 
compelled to take from him— ^ifc may^ be years ago ? Can it 
give him back the ha^q^ier years o£ what, proves to have been a 
wasted life? Can it^ give him back the honour, the love,, the 
confidence, the tno^a of friends>..that once were his ? Can it compel 
men who shrink &om. contact with hint as they would from the 
touch of a leper, to giiie him beside them the honoured place as a 
ga^t at the banquet which he might once have been entitled to ? 
Can it cut off the' entail of lu& sin that goes on and on, as that 

sia contiimea to iiyujre.QtheES Igr ita- example or by its. natural conse- 


20 Forgiveness^ Human and Dtvine. 


quences^ and so continues echoing and re-echoing on through the 
ages, multiplying and replenishing the earth with its evil progeny ! 
Can it do this ? Never. 

And thus, you see, by the very condition of things in which we 
exist, that we come at last to a point in which the personal element 
of pity and compassion, and even, apparently, of justice itself, seems 
to vanish altogether, and man is face to face with a stem, impersonal, 
universal law, that is certain as death and pitiless as the grave ; and, 
therefore, that for sin in such a constitution there is no possibility 
of remission ! 

So, then, forgiveness is not so simple ; so, then, the idea of human 
remission of all penalty for an offence is not the natural and easily 
intelligible process that it appeared to be when we first heard the 
words, " Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." 

And now let us, in the next place, apply these analogies 
to the great doctrine of Divine forgiveness — to the Divine creditor 
and human debtor. God will forgive us, we assume, as easily as 
we forgive our fellow-men; and yet we have seen that the very 
idea of the forgiveness of a feUow-man is only possible on one 
condition — ^namely, that we completely isolate the debtor and creditor 
from all other relations, and regard them as equals. Is U not dear 
ifuU this 18 a position in which Ood can never etani to any one ofuet 
If there be one thing more clear than another it is this — ^that by no 
ill-deed of ours can we hurt God. Our goodness extended not to 
Him, and how can our wrong-doing hurt Him ? Can He be supposed 
to cherish against us the passion of personal revenge that needs to 
be restrained ? Can He keep a debtor and creditor account with us, 
the creatures of His breath ? It is impossible. The one condition in 
which we cannot stand to God is that of an equal dealing with an 
equal for an offence. But as regards our other relations, what is He 
to us ? He is the Buler of all that complex system of society in 
which wrong produces endless debt. He is the Judge of all that vast 
multitude of humanity which He has created, eveiy one of whom has 
a claim at His judgment-seat against his fellow that has wronged 
him. And if the earthly judges He appoints bear not the sword 
in vain, how can we suppose that the cry of suffering humanity 
for justice shall be in vain ? 

There is this further difficulty. He is the Author of that veiy 
constitution of things, of those inexorable and unalterable laws, under 

Forgiveness^ Human and Divine, 21 

which we have seen that foTgiveness is scarcely conceivable. Are 
we to suppose, then, that He will deflect those laws, and turn them 
aside, at our bidding ? Are we to suppose that those mills of God 
which, as the ancients said, grind so slowly and grind so yery 
small that nothing escapes them, at the last will be stilled by our 
prayer ? Where is there any room, amidst this moral constitution of 
the univeisey ruled by a moral ruler — where is there any room for 
the forgiveness of sin ? Where can you find the idea of the easily 
forgiving Grod which at first seemed so natural ? Do you not 
see that all this magniloquent and windy talk about a merciful 
and compassionate Grod, so facile in His forgiveness, is the poor 
conception of modem Theism — ^the poorest and lowest conception 
you can form of God? — ^that it does not rise above the low 
thought of the savage, which pictures Him merely as an angry 
and ofiTended man ? Bise but one degree above that — ^rise in your 
thought to the conception of Him as the Judge of the earth and the 
Author and Controller of the moral universe, and all this talk about 
easy, good-natured forgiveness vanishes as the cloud-wreath vanishes 
at the rising of the sun. 

In the last place, then, let us see what there remains as to the 
possibility of forgiveness. Does not our reason tell us that, unless 
these laws which have been described can be suspended, or turned 
aside, by some power or other, there is no hope of forgiveness ? 

What do we call that power that suspends — turns aside — deflects 
some natural law by the introduction of a supernatural law ? We 
call it a miracle, and "miracle" is a word which modem science forbids 
religion to speak. Bvi a miracle, nevertheless, is needed in order to the 
possibility of forgiveness — as real a miracle as any miracle in the 
physical universe. Yes, it needs as much a moral miracle on the 
part of God to save the sinner from the consequences of his sin when 
he transgresses the moral laws of the universe, as it would need a 
physical miracle to snatch him from a storm or an earthquake. 
Thank Grod, Sevelation assures us that, to accomplish this, a miracle 
has been wroi^ht. 

What is it that Bevelation tells us concerning the Atonement and 
mediation but this, that this miracle is the mightiest and Divinest of 
all miracles ? that the God who has framed this natural and inexorable 
constitution of moral law, has entered this natural world, where men 
sin and suffer by the operation of these terrible laws ; has come down 

22 Fprgtveness^ Human and Divine. 

and taken unto Himself that sinful and fluffiering humanity, and made 
it, in the person of His dear Son, a Divine Man'? Does it not tell 
us how that Son has died, and risen supematarally to heaven, and 
that in so doing He has created, by that Teal and mighty miracle, 
for every one who dies and rises with Him, a new world, a super- 
natural world, a world in which they who enter are no longer under 
the law of sin and its natural penalty, death — ^but are under the 
supernatural law of forgiveness and everlasting life ? This is what 
Eevelation discloses to us — ^the miracle of a new worid, even the 
Kingdom of the Lord Jesus Christ, into which we may flee, and, fle«ng 
into which, we may be delivered from the operation of those terrible 
laws of justice and of punishment from which otherwise there is no 

Is this, then, to be regarded as a barbarous addition to the idea of 
forgiveness ? Picture to yourselves — if wb must come back to the 
picture of the old Hebrew prophet that we saw early in this sermon, 
when I described him standing by his altar of sacrifice, and declaring 
that, the sacrifice wasVorthless, and that God would accept the o£fering 
of his contrite heart instead — ^picture to youiselves, for one moment, 
that, on the heart of the prophet that glowed witii love and trembled 
with hope, there had descended some such pitiless demonstaration of 
intellect as we have been striving to set before you — namely, that 
without a miracle there was no possibility of his contrite heart being 
accepted of God. Imagine — as this conclusion fell coldly and 
chillingly upon his heart, quenching all his aspirations, as some 
windy storm of rain may have quenched the brands upon the altar of 
his sacrifice — ^imagine that to such a heart there had been given the 
revelation that Christ has come to us in Himself and in His Gospel, 
and that the forgiveness, which his inteDect had demonstrated as being 
impossible without a miracle, was to be had by a miracle ; that there 
had come this revelation of the marvel and mystery: * God so loved 
the world that He gave His only begotten Son," and that he had seen 
liie might of Omnipotence holding asunder, as nothing but the might 
of Omnipotence can do, sin and its consequences ; would this have 
been an obstacle instead of an encoum^ment to him to draw nearer 
to the Father ? There might be still the question, which is ever the 
question of the sceptical intellect, as to the hofw and the why of this 
great miracle of the Atonement But difBksulties of this kind would 
not have hindered his approach, and need no more hinder your 

ForgivenesSj Human and Divine. 23 

ftpproach, to the Mercy-seat of the Father, than the onfathomed 
depths of the waters that rose right and left for the passage of the 
ransomed people of God hindered their passage between the dark 
wills on to the seashore on the other aide. 

And so we gath^ up the loBSons that this word concerning God's 
and man's foxgiveiMSS has brought us to eontemplata To the idea 
of foigiveneas there ecMne three different parts of man's nature— the 
conscienoe; which tells him of a certain and just penalty for sin ; the 
understanding, which tells him, either that there is no such thing as 
sin at all, or that for sin there can be no fbrgiyeness ; and the heart 
that cries, as the human heart ever will cry, *' O God, be merciful to 
me a sinner!" And there is one doctnne, and one only — there is one 
revelation, and one only — ^that meets and answ^s, and justifies itself 
as it mieetB and answers, these three cries from the troubled nature of 
man. Bevelaticm answeE8> *^ There is penalty/' and deepens the voice of 
sorrow by telling us that the penalty is due for an offence againat the 
Father, and titat the penalty must consist in being cast out of the 
supernatural kingdom of forgiveness into the natural kingdom of 
vengeance. To the reason that demands a miracle, it gives a miracle, 
and speaks of the mightiest of miracles, the Incarnation and Atone- 
ment And then to the heart, the trembling, anxious, yearning 
human heart, that still refuses to believe that man is the mere 
victim of soulleSB, mechanical law, and^insists on believing, in spite 
of demonstration to the contrary, that there is a compassionate heart 
in HifTf who has fashioned us after TTia image^-4o that heart it gives 
an answfflr, " You may go again to the Father, and may be forgiven." 
And so we clasp the Gospel to our heart ; so we kneel before the 
Divine presence of the Son of God and man, in whom we see incar- 
nate the miraculous power of Divine forgiveness and of Divine love ; 
and, spite of all hindrances that would bar us from our Father's 
presence — spite of the eword turned every way which the sceptical 
understanding still waves between man and his lost paradise — spite 
of the remorsefulness of our memory — spite of the terrible accusations 
and demonstrations of our conscience, we can still say this^-thank 
God we can say — God give grace to every one here to be able to say 
it with all trust and belief of heart, " I will arise and go to my 
Father, and will say unto Him, 'Father, I have sinned f^^ainst 
heaven and before Thee/ " 


^Ijt Stixbsf xrf |l^0iir0nf0rmii8t Pisinr^. 

HE subject to which I wish to call attention in this paper 
is one which, so far as I can recollect, has not often been 
dealt with in the pages of our magazines; but it is, 
nevertheless, one in which Nonconfonnists oi^ht to feel 
no little interest, and to which they ought to attach no 
small importance. I am well aware that there are Nonconformists 
here and there to whom the study of Nonconformist history is by no 
means a familiar one, and for whom, indeed, the whole question of 
Nonconformity seems to possess but few, if any, charms. When 
a member of the congregation to which I am accustomed to preach 
saw, one Sunday morning, a somewhat imposing biU upon the notice- 
board, announcing that his minister would speak at the annual 
meeting of the County Association on the subject of Nonconformity, 
he was overheard muttering, " What I Nonconformity again ! I wonder 
when our County Associations will have done parading their precious 
Nonconformity." He was one of those tepid, Churchi£ed Dissenters, 
who are so imenlightened concerning the history, as well as the 
principles, of Nonconformity as to cry down every attempt to bring 
the subject into public notice. Are there any such persons among 
the readers of this Magazine ? I hope not. But, if there are, let me 
bespeak their candid and careful attention while I try to show that 
Nonconformity has a history, that this history is worthy of study, 
and that in the study of it there are some important advantages to be 

It is clear that Nonconformity must have a history, because it is 
at this day a great fact, a mighty power in the land, such a power 
as no one who wishes to do anything for the moral and religious^ to 
say nothing of the social and political, welfare of the nation can 
ignore. It is not the strongest force in the State at present, but it 
is moving on towards that triumphant position, and bids fair to reach 
it at no very distant date ; so that even now statesmen, legislators^ 
and reformers, all religious and political parties, are obliged to take 
it into account, and to regard it as an important element in every 
important movement. 

How has it attained to its present strength and power ? Assuredly, 
not by mere accident, nor by a sort of mushroom growth. That i& 

The Study of Nonconformist History. 25 

not &e way with gieat conununities, especially with such as have to 
increase and advance by the law of antagonism. They proceed to 
their fiill development, not by a few, quick strides, but by slow and 
gradual stages. In other words, they have a history. Noncon- 
fonnity has not become what it is in an hour or a day. In its course 
it has very much resembled the progress of a great river. 60 to the 
spot where such a river rises, and follow it in all its windings to the 
sea. At first you find it but a tiny rill, trickling from a mossy 
opening in a rock ; and, for a mile or more, it is so small that it can 
be easily crossed without the aid of bridge or boat. By-and-by 
other rivulets flow into it, and as it runs through yonder valley it 
gathers volume and velocity enough to slake the thirst and wash 
away the refuse of villages and towns. Still growing as it glides 
along, it becomes wide and deep, bearing on its bosom no small 
portion of the conmierce of the world. Increasing yet further as it 
flows, it expands into a noble estuary, and mingles its mighty waters 
with the sea. Even thus has it been with our Nonconformity. It 
has not come with sudden, startling power upon society. It has not 
sprang to its present greatness by a single leap. Like the small 
beginning of a swelling river was its commencement in England 
Even as far back as the reign of Elizabeth, which was really the 
period of the foundation of the present Church of England, there 
were a few who detested the formalism of the Church, resented its 
restrictions, and were bold enough to separate themselves from it 
In subsequent reigns, the number of these went on increasing, until 
at length in 1662 the memorable " Two Thousand " said, " We can 
conform no longer ; " and out of the Church they came. From that 
moment Nonconformity grew and spread with a rapidity truly 
ftTm^agiTig ; and to-day, such is its magnitude, that it embraces a full 
half of OUT population. 

Yes, Nonconformity Aos a history — ^a history neither short nor 
inconsiderable. And, happily for us, its history does not remain 
altogether unwritten. The poet Cowper laments the neglect with 
which Englishmen have treated the memory of their heroic fore- 
&thers in the words : — 

" With their names 
No bard embalms and sanctifies his song, — 
And history, so warm on other themes, 
Is cold on this." 

26 The Study of Nencenformnt History. 

Bat this kaguage is not entizely just. The histoiy of Nonconfomity 
ynH, withont doubt, be written more fiilly, and pechaps nune 
^raphieally, some day tjuui it has been as yet ; but it has alxeady 
isommanded historical pens of no mean energy, skill, and fiddity. 
Besides the general nanatiyesof its rise and progress, much of its 
history may be gathered from the biographies of great and good men 
who have adorned its ranks and stimulated its march fiom time 
to time. The '' History of the Puritans," by Daniel Neale, and the 
*' lives of the Ejected Ministers," by Edmund Galamy, together with 
the writings of such man as Hanbury, and Prioe, and Bogue, and 
Bennet, and Fletcher, and Waddington, and Yaughan, azid Halley, 
and Stoughton, and Stanford, and Bayne, to say nothing of the 
numerous county histories which have been prepared of late, are 
evidence enough that Nonconformity Aor a history. 

And this history is worthy of study. On this point, one is tempted 
to say a great deal; but a few considerations briefly indicated must 

First, the history of Nonconformity is a ihrillingly interesting one. 
All who are acquainted with it know that it is no dry or heartless 
narrative. A man must have a very stupid mind and very nanow 
sympathies who can take it up and lay it down again without finding 
in it much to fix his attention and to fire his spirit. It is the history 
of a prolonged and terrible conflict, — ^first, between truth and error ; 
secondly, between right and wrong; and thirdly, between freedom 
and bondage. Take the history of Nonconformity in any one of 
these three great aspects, and it would be simple inhumanity to 
be iudiflPerent to it. What, then, must be the interest it is &;ted 
to iaspire when aU these are found blended together ! Talk about 
romance I You will find plenty of it in the annals of Nonconformity; 
not romance in fiction, but romance in real life ; and that is the most 
engaging as well as the healtiiiest romance of all. Earnestly would 
I urge the young men and women of our churches to make them- 
selves fanuliar with the toils and sufferings of their pious ancestors ; 
for, in so doing, they will find not only much of truth to instruct the 
understanding, but also much of romantic beauty, little as that quality 
is usually thought to be allied to Nonconformity, to kindle the 
imagination, and to thrill the heart. 

The history of Nonconformity sets forth the only real power 
by which the freedom of the human intellect and the sacredness 

The Study of Nonconformist History. 27 

of tihe hmnan coiiBcienoe liave been asserted and finight for. If tliere 
bad been no Noncoiiformity in the past, "vhat would have been 
ear condition to-day in regard to these two (ihief rights of man ? 
Both intellect and conscieaoe would have been sprawling in the most 
abject slavery. Mr. Matthew Arnold may plead that a National 
Church is eminently favourable to tiie free development of theological 
thought and religious life, but the facts of history are against him. 
"Every fresh grovrth, whether of thought or of life, within the 
Established Church, has found itself repressed and restricted by 
tiie Articles and the services ; and, just when it promised to flower, 
has either died off, or has had to be transplanted." Wherever 
a Church Establishment has reigned without a rival, its direct 
tendency has been to check all healthy outplay of individual thought 
and to bind down the intellect and the conscience to its own dwarfed 
and rigid standards. Against this our Nonconformist fathers toiled 
and struggled. They were always jealous of repressive influences. 
One of their most essential principles was the right of private 
judgment, the freedom of every man to think for himself and to 
act out his convictions without restraint. Consequently, the influence 
they exerted, both directly and indirectly, was perpetually tending 
towards the liberation of the intellect and the conscience from the 
shackles which had so long fettered them. They did not simply 
contend for a certain set of principles, but, in contending for those 
principles, they brought to bear upon the general mind of the nation 
an emancipating power. They, and they alone, kept alive the spirit of 
religious inquiry, together with that of personal responsibility to, and 
reverence for, truth. Bead their histoiy, and deny the conclusion 
if you can. 

Again, the history of Nonconformity supplies the best — ^indeed, I 
think I may safiely say the only — explanation of the tivH liberties we 
enjoy. Suppose there had been no Nonconformity at all in England, 
that the State Church had simply had in everytliing its own way, 
would England have enjoyed the civil liberties she enjoys to-day ? 
It is an historical fact that the main power of the State Church has 
been used for tlie curtailment and repression of civil fireedom. The 
enjoyment of civil liberty, generating as it does a passion for liberty 
of every kind, has always been felt by the abettors of the State 
Church to be subversive of that Church's supremacy, so that they 
have, as a body, invariably been found in favour of a limitation of 

28 The Study of Nonconformist History. 

the civil rights of man. And the history of Nonconformity shows 
that the development of Nonconformist power has always been in 
the direction of civil freedom. The historian Hume, writing of the 
Tudor period, declared that " the precious spark of liberty had been 
kindled and was preserved by the Puritans alone/' and that to them 
" the English owed the whole freedom of their Constitution." Lord 
Bussell, speaking in the House of Parliament^ said — ** I know the 
Dissenters ; they carried the Seform Bill, they carried the Abolition 
of Slavery, they carried Free Trade." And Mr. Gladstone, address- 
ing a deputation in the Memorial Hall, said — '* Least of all can I 
doubt the Nonconformists, who have ever formed the central fflrtress 
of the principles of justice and humanity." Yes, it is to the Non- 
conformists of England that we must trace the civil liberty which 
England enjoys. It is impossible to read their history ''without 
claiming that the influence of their opposition to arbitrary power be 
not lost sight of in counting up the forces which have formed the 
English Constitution, without claiming that the stoiy of their fidelity 
to conscience inosculates with the civil history of England, and is 
part of the sore travail of other generations into which this great 
nation has entered." Surely, if we have any regard for the liberties 
we enjoy, we must be interested in reading the records which tell 
how those liberties have been won. 

Once more, the history of Nonconformity proves that it is to 
Nonconformity, in the broad sense of the word, that we owe most of 
the great religious and philanthropic movements which have con- 
tributed so largely to the progress of the nation. The great religious 
revivals which have taken place in our land have been almost 
invariably promoted by religious men who were working outside the 
Established Church. John Wesley was in the Church when he first 
awoke to the importance of preaching the Gospel to the masses, but 
he could not preach it freely and effectively until he had left the 
Church. The great missioniuy enterprise did not originate in the 
Church of England. It was not until the Baptist Missionary Society, 
formed in 1792, and the London Missionary Society — practically a 
Congregational Institution — formed in 1795, had been carrying on 
their splendid work for some years, that the Church Missionary 
Society was begun. The Church of England did not start the great 
Education Movement. On the contrary, it did its best to keep back 
education from the people until it was found that the Nonconformists 

The Study of Nonconformist History. 29 

vere, at great pecuniary cost, and in the manifestation of immense 
^ergy, spreading education far and wide. Even then the work was 
taken up by the supporters of the Church, not out of any love for the 
spread of education |ier se, hut chiefly because they wished to have 
the education of the people in their own hands. And so has it been 
with other great and beneficent movements. They originated outside 
the State Church. That Church caught the contagion of them ; but 
where did the contagion come from ? The history of Nonconformity 
alone answrers the question. 

These considerations ought to he more than sufficient to show that 
the history of Nonconformity is worthy of study. It remains now to 
he seen that the study of this history will have some advantages for 
us which we cannot well afford to miss. A few of the chief of these 
I will point out. 

The stady of Nonconformist history will help to keep alive in our 
hearts reverence for the authority of the Word of God. This reverence 
was one of the most marked features of the Nonconformity which we 
have inherited. The first Nonconformists were constrained to come 
out from the Church because they felt that it was an unscriptural 
institation, and the strongest arguments which they levelled against 
it were drawn from the Word of God, and were clenched by " Thus 
said the Lord." As it was in the beginning, so has it been mainly 
thron^out. Reverence for the authority of the Word of God was 
the one thing which, more than all others, influenced the Noncon- 
formists of the past, and made them strong to dare, to suffer, and to 
die. Of this reverence there is a great deal too little in the times in 
which we live. We think, and feel, and speak, and act too far away 
from the Divine Book. We are too content with the streams which 
in their flowing do not preserve their purity, and go too seldom to 
the fountain-head. This is an age of sermons and pamphlets and 
magazines and religious newspapers. Truth is admixed, diluted, made 
weak by the time it reaches our minds. And so it is that the religious 
life of to-day is so much less robust and stalwart than in the days 
that are gone. The Nonconformists of the past used the " Sword of 
the Spirit, which is the Word of God," in their grand warfare. We 
fall back on a pretentious philosophy, on human sentiment, on that 
which the reason suggests and endorses. The authority of the Book 
is practically of comparatively little account in many quarters. I 
know of no antidote to this sad tendency more direct and powerful 

30 The Study of Nonconformist History. 

than the study of the heroic ages of the Nonconformity of which we 
are and may well be so proud. 

Again, the study of Nonconfoimist his^ry will, help to check the 
modem doctrine that creeds have little or nothing to do with a aoan's 
spiritual life. This doctrine has been very frequently and emphatic- 
ally asserted of late. We have been constantly hearing it ^aid that 
it matters not what a man believes, so long as he has within him 
" the life of goodness." But how a naan can have within him '' the 
life of goodness/' in any deep, Christian sense, who has no definite 
Christian beUefe, I am at a loss to imagine. Take all definiteness of 
doctrine away, and what foundation would there be left for religion 
to take its stand upon? The doctrine that religious creeds are 
matters of indifference derives no sanction from the history of the 
past. Our Nonconformist forefathers were as conspicuous for the 
distinctness of their beliefs, for the tenacity with which they held 
them, and for the fearlessness with which they propagated them as 
they were for any other qualities they possessed. We are fax from 
alleging that all the principles for which they foitght were true, or 
that the creed-forms in which even many of their, truer principlea 
were embodied were the wisest and the best ; but we must honour 
them for the care and conscientiousness which they threw into the 
study of Divine Truth, and for the example which they have 
bequeathed to us of that noble, devout, self-denying homage to Truth 
by which they were animated, as seen in the definitenesa which 
marked their beliefs, and in the zeal with which those beliefs were 
defended; and, discerning in this no small part of the secret of the 
mighty power they wielded, we should be desirous of following in 
their wake. We may not accept many of their dogmas, but we can 
cultivate their conscientiousness, and we can strive to make our 
beliefs as clear and as definite as they made theirs. This will give 
us something of their majesty, weight, and infiuenoe. 

The study of Nonconformist history, moreover, will tend \f> 
suppress the spirit of intolerance. Whilst our Noncenfonnist 
predecessors had clearly defined beliefs of their own, to which they 
attached the utmost importance, not only for themselves, but also for 
their fellow-men ; they recognised the right of others to the liberty 
which they claimed for themselves, and wece ready to grant it to 
any extent, consistent with the maintenanoe of their own freedom. 
They did not hesitate to denounce the dogmas which they felt to be 

The Study af Noncmfprmisi History. 31 

deeply unaciiptnral and dangeioiiB ; but such deminciatioius were no 
siga of the apiixt of intoleianfia. Thqr weieisimpljr a proof of fidelity 
to peraonal convictioi]. Intoleianee of those who difESsr from 11s is 
not syvDiiyiiiaaB with fidelity to truth. Side by side with fidelity, 
libeiality ahonU advaneei if, for iTi«tflHioe> I believe that the doctrine 
of BBptasmal Sageneraticm is a monstronsi and sool-^estroying eiror^ 
it is my duty to say so; and I slumld be leoreant to my own faith if 
I tefiained from saying eo mforely on the gnnmd of charity. Such 
charity is no benefit to my fellow-men who differ from me, whilst it 
is treason to my own conTictiosis* Sot whatever may be the energy 
with which I denounoe what I conoeiYe to be a dangerous heresy, I 
oug^ not to be supposed, by reasooa of that, to wish in the slightest 
degree to interfere with the xeligioiis freedom of those by whom such 
heresy is held. I ought to recognise their right to think for them- 
selves as completely as I recognise my ewn ; and if I am consiistent 
in my belief of the doctrine of the ri^ of private judgment, I shall 
be just as ready to fight for the religions liberty (£ those whom I 
de«n heretics, as of those whom I hold to be sound in the faith. If 
the history of Nonconformity oan teach us anything^ it will teach us 

Again, tiie study of Noneoi^rmist history will nurture in our 
hearts the feeling of tiurnkfulnees. Some people prate and other 
people whine about '^ tiie good old times.'* They take pessimist views 
of the present state of society, and of its fctture prospects. In their 
judgment^ the world is goisg to the bad as fast as time and the devil 
can cany it Now; there is {denty to mourn over in our times, it is 
true ; but there is not a littie to be thankful for. Taking it altogether, 
the condition of England is purer; freer, gremder; stronger, than at any 
previous period. And not a little of this* improvement is owing to 
the great reformation which was ataoted by tiie leading Nonconform- 
ists of two and threo centuries ago. Iliey saw the mass of the people 
wallowing in ignorance and corruption ; and they set to work, as best 
thejr could, to ameliorate their condition. The ignorance was dense 
and the corruption rank, but these brave men fought heroically ; and 
although they became the victims of animosity and persecution, yet 
thqr did act fight in vain. Through their instrumentality the times 
gradually t^hanged for the better; tiie dsarkness gave way to the light ; 
the viees by whieh society was degraded and cursed lost not a 
litde of their rabidness ; dvil and religious liberty once more turned 

32 The Shidy of Ntmconformist History. 

her eyes hopefully to the throne from which she had been driven ; 
religion came back to the nation as a thing of beaaty for the imagina- 
tion, of comfort for the heart, and of holiness for the life. The 
reformation was great, and it has been steadily going on to this day. 
The rich fruits of it we ourselves are abundantly reaping. Surely 
we cannot read the history of the men who began it, and who carried 
it on, amid severest strife and keenest sorrow, without holding them 
in high esteem, and without having the spirit of thankfulness stirred 
up and established in our hearts ? 

Again, the study of Nonconformist history will encourage and incite 
us as Nonconformists to go forward to yet further triumphs. Lord 
Bussell said, "Best, and be thankfuL" We say, "Be thankful, 
but don't rest." That which has been secured to us through con- 
tumely and tears and blood we must cherish, and protect, and extend. 
It is threatened by the revival of some of the worst errors against 
which the strong men who went before us had to contend. The 
sacerdotal spirit is waking up afresh. That spirit means not only 
dishonour to Christ, but oppression for man. In proportion to its 
power it always enslaves. Let it go on in the same ratio for fifty 
years more as it has done during the last fifty years, and the old 
battles will have to be fought over again. Surely if we study the 
past aright, we shall be the better equipped for the struggles which 
may await us ? But even on the hopeful supposition that, as a nation, 
we shall not, in relation to this matter of sacerdotalism, seriously 
retrograde, the work of Nonconformity is not yet complete, nor wiU 
it be so long as the union of the Church with the State continues. 
That union was never more energetically defended, so far as appeal 
to argument is concerned, than it is to-day. Of this we do not 
complain. Those who hold that the principle of a State-establishment 
of religion is in harmony with the truth and will of God are justified 
in using all legitimate means for its maintenance. It is now too 
late in the day for them to persecute their opponents after the coarse 
fashion of the olden time. The spirit of persecution peeps out now 
and then in petty, contemptible ways; but we rejoice in the higher 
and humaner methods to which the advocates of the State Chtirch vi^ 
now resorting in defence of their favourite institution. And surely 
we shall not be guilty of the treachery to our principles which 
would be involved in retirement from the field, now that the weapons 
of the warfare are those of reason, rather than those of force. " Let 

The Study of Nonconformist History, 33 

US grapple with men that think, and let us show that we can think 
as well as they." Our conviction is, that we have truth and right 
on our side. That conviction, fed by the memories of the past, 
should stimulate us to fidelity until the work is done. 

Lastly, the study of Nonconformist history will nourish within us 
the spirit of Christian patience. Such patience we shall be required, 
as Nonconformists, to exercise. The great ends for which our fathers 
strove, and for which we ourselves are striving, are not, perhaps, so 
near accomplishment as some suppose. It does not follow that 
because the appeal of our opponents is made to reason, and because the 
arts of suasion are adopted, therefore the movement forward will be 
more rapid. The probability lies in the contrary direction. The 
appeal to force instantaneously arouses the instinct of defence. The 
appeal to reason does not necessarily beget immediately, either the 
consciousness of the power to reply, or the disposition to use it. It 
is likely that the mildness of the process may postpone the result. 
The result, however, is certain, and the postponement of it ought 
neither to dishearten us, nor to impair our courage, nor to undermine 
our hope. We must still press forward to the mark, letting '* patience 
have her perfect work," never loitering, never flagging, never turning 
either to the right hand or to the left. Such is the necessity which 
is laid upon us, the necessity of patience ; and to meet this necessity, 
I know of nothing so helpful as the study of the grand history of our 
sainted predecessors. How they toiled ! How they suffered 1 And 
yet how heroic they were ! Men of great, strong souls, how tender 
and yet how stem ! They were marvellous for their heroism, but 
they were so because they were exhaustless in their patience ; and 
we cannot read their sublime history without having that noble 
virtue strengthened in our own hearts. It will, indeed, be a shame 
if the milder dispensation under which we live shotdd still be 
regarded as so severe and trying as to set us complaining and doubt- 
ing, whilst the far sterner dispensation to which they belonged 
nuitored them into a faith which nothing could embarrass, and into 
a submissiveness which nothing could mar. 

Yes, Nonconformity has a history ; that history is worthy of study; 
and by all who study it there are important advantages to be gained. 
Let us, then, turn to it with an ardour and a delight which we have 
never brought to it before; let us familiarise ourselves with the 

annals of the past; let us recall the burning words and brilliant 


34 Tf^ -SVif of Br Aery* 

deeds of onr noble ptedeceesors — msa who did most benigu and 
blessed work in their day and generation, and who have left us, not 
joerely a name which we may well be proud to bear, but also an 
example which we may count it our highest honour and our richest 
joy fiuthfully to follow; let eveiy firesh pemsal of the records of 
thar struggles animate us to '' endure hardness as good soldiers of 
Jesus GhriBt/' and constrain us to heed the siunmons which comes to 
us from heaven, '* Be not slothful, but imitators of them who, through 
faith and patience, inherit the promises." 

<^ Lord ! we lift our &th«X8* bomier ; 
Loid ! our fathen* might we ask ; 
Give UB, in still nobler maimer, 
To fulfil their glorious task.'* 

B. Wilkinson, F.G.S. 

An Address at Colston Hcdl, Bristol, on September 2l8t, 1880. 

By the Bey. Bighabd Glover. 

''Then Judas, which had betrayed Him, when he saw that He was condenmedy 
repented himself, and brought again the thirty pieoes of sOrer, saying, 'I have 
sinned in that I have betrayed innocent blood.' And they said, ' What is that 
to us ? See thou to that' And he cast down the pieces of silver in the temple, 
and departed, and went and hanged himself." — ^Matt. xxviL 3 — 5. 

TAKE this subject because I think some recent events 
prove the necessity for a more earnest consuleration of 
the question than is usually given to it. The disclosures 
that have been made of the corruption practised in so 
many cities of the land prove that bribery is a sin which 
'easily besets us. The amusement inseparable from the unveiling of 
iutile knavery tends somewhat to dull the edge of the disgust we 
i)ught to feel, while the high character of many drawn into the com- 
nnssion of these crimes, instead of quickening our watchfulness, is 
apt to produce a feeling that there can be nothing very wrong in 
^v3iat is done by men so respectable. 

Tke Sin cf Bribery. 35 

I know there is a danger always attendant on pfieaelung on tiie 
sins of absentees. We deal best with those sins oominitled by the 
sinner in tiie pnlpit, and next best with those of the people in the 
pews. Ihere is a danger of gathering complacency under protests 
against others' wrongs. Still this fault Ues palpably before us all— -a 
fault of huge dimensions, marking both of the great parties in the 
State, and threatening, if it extend itself, the gravest injury to our 
national well-being. It is well that the pulpit should speak on such 
a matter, and endeavour to turn the interest existing in it into some 
line of meditation which would prove useful to replace corruption 
"with patriotism. 

I wish to lay before you, first, some general considerations on the 

sin of bribery ; and, secondly, the greftt illustration of it famished by 

the text 

L — ^Ths Sin of Bribsrt in General. 

I can quite understand that there are many amongst the two or 

three millions of voters in the United Kingdom who have never 

thought of the duties and responsibilities of an elector. They do 

not know why they have a vote, or what they should do with it ; and, 

finding many anxious to get it, they not unnaturally set themselves 

to sell it to the highest bidder. Doubtless, He who makes all proper 

allowance for our faults will find some receivers of bribes of whom 

He will say, " They knew not what they did," and on that score will 

more easify " forgive them." But if you cannot blame the ignorant 

and the degraded, the case is different with those possessed of mental 

^nd moral intelligenoe. 

WhaJt is an deetor ? What is this vote about the giving of which 

such fiifis is made ? It cannot be too clearly recognised that every 

elector is one of the rulers of this great empire, and that his vote 

is something by which he helps to determine what the policy of 

Kngland is to be. We have inherited from the patriotism and energy 

of our forefathers a well-conditioned State ; laws fairly equal for rich 

■and poor ; liberty so perfect that it leaves us free to do whatever we 

desire, so long as we do not injure others ; and an order so calm that 

it permits the development of national wealth and prosperity in the 

highest degrea Each elector has in his keeping the charge of the 

national well-being. According as he votes carefully or ctaelessly, 

he wiU confirm the well-being of the people, or will enfeeble it. 

There is no blessing to the people greater than a wise Parliament ; 


36 The Sin of Bribery. 

there is no curse more grievous than a foolish one. According as the 
body of electors shall use their power well or ill, we shall have 
a Parliament able to aid the progress of the people, to remedy 
injustice, to restrain vice, to foster trade, and to preserve the incal- 
culable blessings of peace ; or a Parliament incompetent, and perhaps 
indifferent, to accomplish these great things. A vote, therefore, is 
a imd committed to us by the nation, to be used for the nation's 
good. It is not ours to do what we like with it; it is ours as 
trust-money may be ours — sometliing of which we have the care, but 
of which those for whom we keep it are to have the benefit. If 
a judge sold his verdicts, there would be but little difficulty in seeing 
at once the wrong of that offence. Every one would feel at once the 
crime of such a violation of an honourable trust — the wickedness oi 
deciding on any considerations excepting the right and the wrong 
of the case before him. Every voter is a judge, arid every vote is a 
verdict; and to give, for money, a vote thoughtlessly or against 
the conscience, is a crime of the same kind as the selling of a verdict 
to one who wants more than justice would allow him. 

To those men who have taken bribes recently, it was nothing what 
might become of their country — ^whether legislation was to be just or 
unjust — ^whether the well-being of the people was to be advanced or 
curtailed. They gave their verdict in that great Court in which the 
electors of England were a jury sitting on one of the gravest causes 
that ever came for judgment before a people, not to the party which 
in their judgment had justice on its side, but to plaintiff or defendant 
indifferently, according as one or other was most inclined to buy 
the verdict to which he feared he was not in justice entitled. 

If a vote is thus a trust with which we are charged for the well- 
being of the nation, and if to give it carelessly or against our convic- 
tions is a crime the same in kind as, and differing only in degree 
from, that of selling verdicts in a court of law, the greatness of that 
sin will be still more clearly seen by observing how many are affected 
by what is done. 

Oui English empire contains somewhere about 320 millions of 
souls; our electoral constituency consists of a body of about 
2^ nullions. So that, taking the empire through, there is only one 
voter to every hundred subjects of the British Crown. Every elector, 
on the average, can affect by his vote the well-being of a hundred of 
his fellow-subjects. He is the mouth-piece of a hundred persona 

The Sin of Bribery. 37 

who have no other representative. If he addresses himself to the 
discharge of his duty aright, informing himself of all that bears on 
the questions submitted to him, he has the satisfaction of doing what 
tends to promote materially the welfare of, on the average, a hundred 
Imman beings. If, thinking only of guzzling and drink, or moved 
only by greed, he votes without thought, or against his judgment of 
what is right, he has the blame of having acted in a way which tends 
directly to injure, and may injure materially, the well-being of 
a hundred of his fellow-men. If we knew the abject poverty in 
which hundreds of millions in India exist, who have no vote of their 
own by which to influence the administration of their affairs ; if we 
fcnew the abject poverty of millions in Ireland who are in the same 
case ; and if we knew how much it can be proved by experience that 
a Parliament of wise, honest, courageous men may do to improve the 
condition of their fellow-subjects, and how much a foolish Parliament 
can add to their misery, I believe there are very few even of the most 
oorrapt of our electors who would not, from very compassion, repent 
of their levity and greed, and address themselves to the discharge 
of a voter's duty with the most careful and honest resolve to help 
their sufTering fellow-men to better laws. 

This consideration of the vast number of English subjects who 
have no representation whatever, either in our national or in any 
local Parliament, cannot but be felt to enhance the responsibihty of 
eveiy elector. He has to think of those who have no voice, and to 
help the cause of those who are unprotected. If, careless whether 
thoee affected by his vote have their sufferings increased or lessened, 
he cares only for the bit of gold with which some seek to seduce 
Kim from the discharge of his duty, will the God of the defenceless 
and the poor not judge him for such a fault ? 

I have spoken of the sin of receiving a bribe to violate a trust 
If it be a sin to receive a bribe, what must it be to offer one ? Here 
it is well to tread humbly. Perhaps, had we been tempted, we 
would, like others, have fallen — ^have fancied, like Herod when he 
ordered John to be beheaded, that really such a sin was an absolute 
necessity. At the same time, if we have to judge those gently who 
conunit the crime, we must not call evil good, or blind ourselves to 
the greatness of the crime which they have conmiitted. To give a 
man money to tell a lie — ^how dark and guilty a thing is that ! To 
become seducers — ^to use our influence and wealth to get men to be 

38 The Sm of Bribery. 

less honest, less trathful, less patriotic — to lower their self-respect — 
to help them on the way to the hell which is the special doom of 
the liar — ^what an atrocity ! Gold is given men to do good with — \x> 
lessen miseiy^ not to destroy virtue — ^to multiply the joys oT 
men, not to increase their vices. Leave the devil unhelped^ 
He is a seducer sufiBiciently strong without respectable men 
enlisting in his service and doing his work. If we cannot reach 
title or place without corrupting the morals of another, let u& 
remember that it is an honest man's part to go without it, and that 
he will do so. If, for the sake of adding two letters to Ms name, a 
man does that which makes people liars by the score, no kindliness- 
of natural disposition, no respectability which in other directions h& 
exhibits, ought to keep us from branding his action as one of the. 
greatest crimes which a man can commit It will not do to say^ 
We are not our brothers' keepers." In a world where conflict is- 
steiai — ^where it ±b hard to rise, and easy to go astray — our fellow- 
men have a right to all the help we can give them in the attainment- 
of whatever is honest and just and good. If, on the contraiy, we help* 
them to be liars and hypocrites — to neglect the interests of those for 
whose good they are entrusted with political power — ^to debauch 
themselves with drink, — ^however painfid the judgment of the human 
tcibunal may be at which "we have to avow bur £a.ults, there is another 
tribunal. at which all the moral injury we have inflicted will find a^ 
more searching scrutiny, and, if unrepented, a more terrible award. 

There is one other cousidemtion which may not add much to our 
impression of the sin of bribery, but which will suggest the mischief 
of it. . They who corrupt others rnvst he themsdvei corruptible. It may 
be that they would not talce a money-bribe; they may have too 
much self-respect, or too much wealth, for that But it is obvious 
that they who have so slight a conception of the duties of 
the voter, and such a contempt for the idea of his honesty, will 
not have a very exacting sense of the duty of their representative. 
They will represent the looseness and indifference of their con- 
stituency better than its interests. General corruption in the 
oonstituencies of any land has always been faithfully reflected in 
the general corruption of the governing bodies of that land. Men 
who have bought parliamentary power will never feel much 
responsibility as to its emplojrment, and will probably feel that 
they have a right to sell it — ^it may be for place, it may be^for title 

The Sin of Bribery. 39 

it may "be simply to keep the favour of their party — ^but for some 
such -pno^ they will always be ready to seU Uie verdict they 
should pionoimce acoording to truth and justice. Is it desirable 
that a Parliament which governs one^fourth of the popolatioii of the 
wcfrld should be composed of men with loose notions of tlieir duty, 
and seeking power for selfish reasons of mere vanity ? Is it to such 
men that the government of this vast assemblage of diverse peoples 
should be confided? We want men who will go to Parliament, 
not to air their dignities, but to take a grave and enlightened part 
in furthering the good of those who compose this great empire. 
Let bribeiy flourish, and it is simply an impossibility that such 
an empire as ours can thrive or even endure. Should corraption 
become the general characteristic of the constituencies of the land, 
there will be folly in our legislation, recklessness, n^lect, needless 
wais — ^the absence at once of the effort and the power to promote 
the moral well-being of the people. 

Put all these considerations together, and there will be little 
need to add more to demonstrate that bribery is one of those 
sms which are demoralising to individuals and dangerous to the 
conmrnnity in such a degree that aU honest persons should visit them 
with the severest reprobation. 

But a general discussion does not strike the imagination with 
the force of a fact. I would therefore seek to enforce my general 
argument by drawing your attention to — 

II. — The Great Illustbation of Bbibery Furnished by our Text. 

The greatest crime in human history was done for a bribe. To 
ail ages, Caiaphas and his fellows stand as the specimens of those 
who give, and Judas Iscariot as the type of those who receive, bribes. 
It was the case of a man taking a bribe of £15 or £20 to betray his 
faster and Friend. The worst bribe ever given or taken, it presents, 
in all its naked hatefolness, the features of evil which every bribe 
presents in a lesser degree. Observe a few of the features of the 

1. Men vmserupaUms in txpendvng money, — People that have five- 
pound notes to give away have temptations proportioned to their 
wealth. A careless lavishness may foster infinite evU; and tiie 
abuse of wealth in corrupting men stands as high in sin as the use 
of it in blessing men stands in sanctity. 

40 The Sin of Bribery. 

2. Yov* hive here one too greedy of gold, — ^It is strange that so 
few seek to guard themselves against this. There are few things so 
dearly bought as gold. Some give all their leisure to get it, some 
all their thought ; some part with their self-respect, some with their 
peace of mind ; some sell all their manliness, some all their virtue. 
Here greed drives Judas to that crime which was the marvel of hell 
itself! Brethren, we are all fond of money; let the example of 
Judas set us on our guard against it 

3. Observe, further, that sovne delude themselves by supposiiig that the 
gtiilt belongs only to him who takes the hnbe, while the advantage 
rewMns with those who give it. — Such was the feeling expressed by 
the priests. When, in the bitterness of remorse, Judas comes con- 
fessing that he has sinned in betraying innocent blood, how significant 
is the contempt with which they speak ! " Of course you have ; but 
what have we to do with it ? That is your look out. See thou to 
that " Just as to-day men look with loathing and contempt on 
the wretched creatures who receive their bribes — ^pitying them, con- 
demning them, pluming themselves on the possession of a degree of 
honour which could stoop to nothing so low, and complacent in the 
idea that the elector gets the money and the guilt, while they get 
the honour and the advantage. 

These priests were a little premature in their complacency. God 
parcelled out the guilt on other principles, and did not let them off 
80 easily. 

They who instigate and profit by a crime are, even in the eyes of 
human law, reckoned as partakers of its guilt ; and this idea, that we 
can deftly get the advantage and leave to others the guilt of a crime, 
will be found in our experience as delusive to us as it was to the 

4. Lastly, observe the bribe accepted doing no good to him who took it. 
— So little, that he was more eager to get quit of the money than to 
get hold of it. It burnt him as if it had been heated in hell-fire ! 
So he casts it down on the floor of the Temple. It so embitters life, 
that he goes and hangs himself 1— ends hope, and perfects his per- 
dition I No bribe has ever done the man who took it any good. The 
money you work for brings with it a blessing from God. You can 
increase your children's welfare with it. You can use it to some good 
purpose. But gold got dishonestly is only a curse. It is drank ; it 
is squandered ; or, if saved, it breeds meanness, and genders an evil 

RevteiQS. 41 

Teadiness for action still worse. It is an example to a man's children 
which trains them to low and greedy thoughts and vilest ways. 

If such be the considerations that should weigh with us, and such 
the illustration that should deter us, what are we to do ? We cannot 
^secure unity of sentiment. There will always be (it is desirable that 
there should always be) parties difTering in their views — one looking 
chiefly to the good which exists, and desiring to conserve it ; another 
looking to the additional good that may be, and labouring to attain 
It. Such a division is natural and proper, and is not to be regretted. 
Xor should we desire any diminution of zeal in the political activities 
of the people. "We have inherited a grand possession in English 
hberty and English law. The welfare of England is an object of 
interest to all mankind, as well as to ourselves. She is the great 
mother of free nations, and whatever abates her prosperity or honour 
impedes the sacred cause of freedom. If we rightly saw all that is 
involved in the prosperity of England, we should feel that we need 
a higher and a holier patriotism — one that will seek to do a citizen's 
duty with all the intelligence we can bring to it. We need the 
highest honour we can bring to our task. We may not vote other- 
wise than our honest judgment prescribes on any account — not to 
please a friend, not to gain some advantage for our own trade, not to 
secure the triumph of any lesser cause in which our heart is inter- 
ested. We are put in trust by God with more power than most 
of us imagine. Let us use it honestly, wisely, thinking only of the 
nation's good ; and, in a larger degree than we think possible, the 
blessing of God wiU rest upon our land, whilst amongst the rewards 
vdth which at last our gracious Saviour will crown all that is right 
and holy in our lives, not the least will be that which is bestowed on 
the integrity which defies all efforts to corrupt it, and which seeks to 
do a citizen's duty with a single eye to the nation's good. 

The Lite and Lbiters of Horacb was a great American ; better still, he 

BusHNELL. London : Richard D. was a great man ; best of all, he was a 

Dickinson, Farringdon Street great Christian. He was gifted with a 

Wi have here a Chnstian life-story ma|pificent intellect, the lustre of 

which ranks with the biographies of which, however, was of the more steady 

Thomas Arnold, Frederick Bobertson, and undemonstrative kind. It never 

•and Charles Eingsley. Dr. BnshneU broke out into a stormy and fitful glare 



odIj to fall back into clood and gloom. 
It waj9 pesennial in its light and power, 
and had a wondeiful knack of keeping 
the clouds away. Few men have 
thought more deeply and fearlessly, 
or more clearly and comprehensively ; 
fewer still have expressed thinkings of 
so Tmusual an order in a diction at once 
so accurate and so easy. We make this 
acknowledgment with the greater 
emphasiB, because we are convinced 
that Dr. Bushnell did not escape grave 
error on some of the most important 
theological questions, espedally on one 
question, which is probably the most 
important of them all — ^namely, that 
which relates to the ground on which 
sinners are pardoned by Qod, Notwith- 
standing this, we gladly consider him 
to have been, not only a great thinker, 
but also a Qod-fearing and Qod-loving 
man ; — tee from guile ; without even a 
touch of sentimentalism; with a mascu- 
line robustness of feeling, mingled with 
a beautiful tenderness ; mighty in fedth 
and prayer; communing with Nature 
and Nature's Qod, as Mead commimes 
with friend ; at home in the very efiPul- 
genee of Eevelation; beautifying his 
life, and blessing his home, his people, 
his fellow-citizens, and, so for as he 
could, all mankind, with a cheerful 
CSiristian unselfishness, which was at 
once unreserved, unostentatious, and 
unremitting. Postponing the fuller 
notice which his biography demands, 
we will only say further at present 
that all who wish for an intellectual 
and spiritual treat of a very high (»der 
will do well to avail themselves of the 
ample account of the man and his work 
which Mr. Dickinson has so promptly 
reproduced in this country. 

Thb Pulpit Ck>Ma[BKTART. QenetU, 
London : C. Kegan Pttul & Co., 1, 
Paternoster Square. 

We have here the third instalment of 

this great work, which is progressiim^ 
at a satisfiictory pace, and which will 
take, as assuredly it deserves to take,, 
a high place in our English Biblical 
literature. Probably the volume before 
us will be reckoned to be the ablest and 
most valuable of the three which have 
been issued. It treats of one of the 
most important of the books of the Old 
Testament Canon, to the explanation, 
and illustration of which no less than. 
543 closely printed pages have been, 
devoted. These pages embody the most 
advanced and trustworthy learning 
which can be brought to bear upon the 
subject in the way of criticism and 
exegesis, together with intelligent and 
effective homilies upon the text as 
thus set forth and explained. This, 
part of the work has been done by the 
Bev. Thomas Whitelaw, M.A., whilst 
other homilies have been contributed 
by the Bevs. J. F. Montgomery, D.D. ; 
W. Boberts, M.A. ; Professor R A. 
Bedford, M.A., LL.B.; and F; Hastings. 
We have not, of course, had an oppor- 
tunity, at present, of examining this. 
Commentary in every part; but we 
have turned to many parts of it at 
random, and have found in every 
instance the most indubitable signs of 
conscientious care, of scholarly pre- 
cision, of a judgment satisfied with 
nothing short of the truth, and of con- 
clusions in no case ministering to 
scepticism, but rather calculated, £rom 
first to last, to clarify and consolidate 
faith. The value of the work is. 
enhanced beyond all estimate by a 
superb ''General Introduction to the 
Old Testament " firom the brilliant pen 
of Canon Farrar ; by a remarkably com- 
prehensive and STi^estive essay on 
'*The Leading Principles of the Divine 
Law as manifested in the Pentateuch,'*' 
by Dr. Cotterill, BiAop of Edinburgh ; 
and by an able discussion of the ques- 
tion of the authorship of the Pentateuch^ 



and a special introdiiction to the Book 
ot Qenesb, by Mr. Whitelaw. No 
mimBter should lack this splendid 

Thb Quitsb : an lUastiatBd Magazine 
fe Sunday and Qtnezal Beading, 
November, 1880. London, PaiiB, 
and New York: Gassell, Pettar, 
Galpin & Go. 
Tbib number of the Quiver oommenees 
a josw Tolnme, which promifles to be in 
sveiy respect equal to the best of its 
predecessors. We have no more ably 
oondueted periodical than this; none 
with a richer variety of matter ; none 
more attractive to all daises of readers; 
none more adapted for usefulness. 
Thoie who are fiond of healthy fiction 
will be interested in the two new 
ttoaei, " Bertie and I," and '< In Vanity 
and Vexation." <<The Quiver Bible 
das^' and << Scripture Lessons for 
School and Hoine,'' will help to 
familiarize the young with the Holy 
BooL In the former we have twenty- 
four questions, the answers to which 
«iU require some reseeoch; in the 
latter, an illustmtion and exposition of 
the stories of ^'Elijah and the widow 
of Zafepbath," and of " Elijah at Mount 
GkmeL" ^The man who knew too 
mucks'—the first of a series of <<Life 
pactnxes of men we have met'' — ^is gra- 
phically presented. Baptists will be 
specially interested in the present 
volume, because of admirable contribu- 
tioBB from four of onr brethren — 
Walten, late of Birmingham ; Morris, 
of Ipswich ; Stuart, of Watford ; and 
Sbindler, of Kington. 


taining Twenty-five by the Author of 
"Outlines of Sermons on Miracles 
and Parables of the Old Testament ; " 
Twenty-five by Eev. Wilberfopce 
Newton and Bev. Edgar Woods ; to- 

gether with Fifteen Ten-minute Ser*- 
mons to Children. London : K D. 
Diokinson, 80, Farringdon Street. 

Iv boys and girls can take pleasure in 
reading sermons of any kind, we should 
think they would be interested in those 
contained in this volume. They are 
simple, as sermons for children ought \xy 
be. On the other hand, they are free 
from twaddle, which is more than can 
can be said of not a few of the sermons 
which children are condemned to hear 
and invited to read. There is plenty 
of anecdote — some of it old, but much 
of it new — and it is generally intro- 
duced for a good purpose and in a 
telling way. The book might be useful,, 
not only to children themselves, but 
aUo to many of those in our Sunday- 
schools upon whom devolves the by- 
no-means easy task of addressing them, 
from time to time. 


LBDOE. From the Creation to the- 
Patriarchs. By Cunningham Geikie,. 
D.D. With Illustrations. London : 
S. W. Partridge & Co., 9, Paternoster 
Db. Gbikib needs no recommendation 
beyond that most ample one which hi» 
own name supplies. He has an almost 
unrivalled place amongst the more in-^ 
structive and fascinating religious 
authors of our time. His two great 
volumes on "The Life and Words of 
Christ," now in their seventeenth edi- 
tion, have been a fountain of light and of 
joy to tens of thousands of sotils, and 
wiU not be eclipsed for many an age, 
whatever other lights of the same order 
may arise and cross their path. Every 
youth m the land should read the 
« Book for Young Men," entitied <' En- 
tering on Life," than which we know of 
none more provocative of healthful 



thought, or moie stimulative of manly, 
devout Ohrktiaii feeling and puipose. 
The work which calls for the present 
notice is the initial volume of a pro- 
jected series, which we fervently hope 
tlie gifted and accomplished author may 
live to complete, and which, when com- 
pleted, will take a place scarcely second 
to that which is occupied by " The Life 
and Words of Christ " already alluded 
to. We are amazed at the immensity 
and variety of the lore of which Dr. 
Geikie here proves himself to be a 
master, and at the ease with which he 
brings it to the service of Bible defence 
and illustration. His knowledge of 
languages living and dead, of literature 
ancient and modern, of antiquities, of 
history, of philosophical theories, and 
of science, so for from burdening his 
intellect and giving slowness to his 
pen, furnishes the scope without which 
his great natural powers would be 
painfully restrained, whilst it is fear- 
lessly and fervently consecrated to the 
honour of the Bible and of its Divine 

Shakespeare's Stobibs Simply Told. 
By Mary Seanier. London, Edin- 
buigh,and New York : Nelson&Sons. 
The authoress before us is not the only 
©ne who has attempted to render 
Shakespeare's dramas in the form of con- 
tinuous narrative, and independently of 
their dramatic setting ; but there was 
room for the special purpose she had in 
view—a purpose which she has accom- 
plished in a way that entitles her to 
much praise. She has written for chil- 
dren, and her object has been to 
"familiarise them with the works of 
our great national dramatist" Shake- 
«peare's pkys are not the best kind of 
literature for very young people to read ; 
but this version of the stories they 
embody is healthy enough, and will 

furnish a fit preparation for the true 
appreciation and ei^joyment of their 
wondroujs power at a period of life when 
there has been a sufficient intellectual 
and moral development to ensure the 
more exclusively beneficial results of 
that study of them which no intelligent 
English mind can be expected to neglect. 
The present work is written in an at- 
tractive style, is beautifully printed and 
bound, and contains a very lai^ge 
number of quaint, old-fashioned, and 
effective etchings, illustrative of various 
scenes in the twenty -six stories which 
have been selected. 

Ward and Lock's Univbrsal In- 
structor; OR, Self-Culture for 
All. Fully Illustrated. London : 
Ward, Lock, & Co. 
The second part of this marvellously 
useful and cheap publication entitles it 
to our warmest praise. For sixpence 
we have sixty-four closely printed and 
admirably illustrated octavo pages, con- 
taining sound instruction in the English, 
Latin, French, and Qerman languages ; 
Botanical, Astronomical, and Chemical 
Science ; Arithmetic and Mathematics ; 
Music ; Ancient History ; Penmanship, 
&c, &c With such help as this at 
their command, those who can read and 
think need not lack varied and valuable 
knowledge, and cannot do so without 

The Sword and Trowel. November, 
1880. London : Passmore & Ala- 
baster, 4, Paternoster Buildings. 
Mr. Spurgeon's magazine holds on. its 
prosperous and easy way. He rightly 
describes it on the title-page as ''a 
record of combat with sin, and of 
labour for the Lord." The first article, 
as usual, is from his own pen, with the 
heading, " Sweet Fruit from a Thorny 
Tree ; " and in it he has made a truly 



saintly use of the distiessiiig alBictioii 
tlirongh which he has been passing. 
Amongst other papers full of healthy 
yigoar we have one from Mr. Charles- 
worth on Joseph Barker, which is, 
perhaps, liardly so sympathetic as it 
might fairly have been. 

The Child's Lifb of Chsibt. With 
Original Illustrations. Pftrt First. 
Caasell, Fetter, Galpin, & Co. 

The ^iterprising publishers of this work 
hare laid our children under obliga- 
tions which cannot be over-estimated by 
their issue of " The ChHd's Bible ; " but 
« The Child's Life of Christ » is a work 
even still more invaluable. The subject 
itself is of the very highest importance, 
and the unfolding of its countless and 
iafinitely varied attractions for the 
eluld-mind is a task in which any 
initer may well feel a raptiirous in- 
terest proportioned to the perfection of 
his literary and spiritual fitness for it. 
We have read the first of the twenty- 
fonr parts into which this publication 
is to be divided with unqualified satis- 
faction. We cannot conceive of any 
respect in which the work could have 
been better performed. It opens with 
a singolarly graphic account of Pales- 
tine, considered geographically, his- 
torically, ethnologically, &c. The second 
chapter goes through the beautiful story 
of &e ^ Annunciation ; " and the third 
takes us to Nazareth and Bethlehem. 
The language is simple, the style trans^ 
parent and chaste, the information at 
once copious and condensed, and the 
description vivid. The numerous il- 
lustrations are '' taken mainly from pho- 
tographs and other authentic sources," 
and are artistically executed. Pro- 
ceeding as it has begun, the work, when 
complete, will be truly "a thing of 
beauty " and ** a joy for ever." 

Thb Leisure Houb. 1880. London : 
66, Paternoster Row, and 164, Pic- 

This splendid volume contains 828 
large octavo pages of literary matter, 
which may be described as bewilder- 
ingly varied in its topics, irresistibly 
fascinating in its style, unexceptionably 
pure in its tone, and wealthy even to 
repletion with elements of wholesome 
instruction. It would be useless to 
attempt to particularise. A fair selec- 
tion from the table of contents alone 
woidd occupy some half dozen of our 
columns. If any of our yoimg people 
have not taken the parts of this ad- 
mirable periodical which comprise the 
volume for 1880, let them obtain the 
volume now, and they will find enough 
in it by which many a leisure hour may 
be pleasantly and usefully occupied. 

The Sunday at Home : a Family 
Magazine for Sabbath Reading. 1880. 
Religious Tract Society. 
This volume is a fitting companion to 
the volume of the Leimre Hour just 
noticed, and every word we have 
written concerning the one might be 
written with equal truth concerning 
the other. The only specific difference 
between them, as to character, is that 
the volume before us is specially de- 
signed for Sunday use ; and every line 
in it, so far as we can see, responds to 
the purposes for which the Sunday has 
been consecrated. The five sermons by 
Dr. Maclaren are worth much more 
money than the sum required for the 
purchase of this whole mass of thought 
and of information, so well calculated 
to stimulate and direct the cultivation 
of that "godliness" which "is profit- 
able unto aU things, having promise of 
the life that now is, and of that which 
is to come." 



In Bible Lands. By Richaxd Newton, 
DJ). With Sirby Engravings. 
London : T. Nelson & Sons, Pater- 
noeter Bow. 1880. 
JjcoNO the many hooks of travel ''in 
Bihle hinds," thfa of Dr. Newton's holds 
aplace of its own. It is written in a 
graphic and lively style, in the fonn of 
letters, such as the youngest reader can 
understand and in which the oldest 
will take delight The author every- 
where proves himself to have heen a 
close and careful observer^ both of nature 
and human life. His descriptbns of 
the locaUties he visited in Egypt, Pale*, 
tine, Asia Minor, &c., of their anti- 
quities and the customs of the people, 
are simple, direct, and powerful. Their 
historical associations-— the men and the 
deeds which have rendered them illus- 
trious— «re carefully noted, and their 
lessons feithfully enforced. Interspersed 
throughout the book are short practical 
sermons for children, which cannot fail 
to command the attention and impress 
the heart. The illustrations are ad- 
mirable, and, as with all Messrs. Nel- 
son's books, the get-up is all that can be 

The Prophet Jonah. By Bev. 
Samuel Clift Bum. Second Thou- 
sand. London: Hodder&Stoughton. 
•Christian preachers of every age have 
found in the strange story of the Pro- 
phet Jonah a fond of priceless instruc- 
tion ; and even the rationalistic critics, 
with all their ridicule and contempt, 
have not been able to divest the book 
of its charm. On historical, moral, 
^md all^rical grounds it takes a firm 
hold of the popular imagination and 
heart, and readily lends itsdf to the pur- 
poses of the ambassador of Christianity. 
Mr. Bum has been a diligent and con- 

sdentioua student of the book, and has 
sought to interpret its teachings by the 
aid of the most raeent investigatioas. 
The work consistB of eighteen lectniWy 
which, from their solid thought, their 
fervour of spirit, and their simplicity 
and grace of style, must have been 
listened to with attention and profit. 
They would, in their printed form, 
have been improved by condensation, 
as here and there points are am^ified 
which are scarcely essential to the 
narrative. But this is a trivial feuilt^ 
and we cannot doubt that the book will 
be widely appreciated. The conflecatiTe 
exposition of Scripture is always jmo- 
fitable, and, though Mr. Bum.'8 contri- 
bution cannot be called original, it is 
fresh and independent 


FROVEMENT. By Bcv. Lewis O. 
Thomson. From the Fourth Ameri- 
can Edition. London : TTftmilfftp^ 
Adams, & Co. 1880. 

The subject of Mr. Thomson's essay is 
felt by every Christian pastor to be of 
prime importance, and engages constant 
attention. How to make our prayer^ 
meetings more attractive and profitable 
IB a problem we are aU anxious to solve. 
The writer of this volume offera many 
valuable suggestions — ^the fruit, partly, 
of his own thought and experience, and 
partly of the experience of others. 
Some of these are more applicable to 
the American than to the British 
churches, but we do not know the 
minister or deacon who might not leam 
much from his pages. All who are 
responsibleforthe conduct of our prayer- 
meetings should "read, mark, leam, 
and inwardly digest" what they find 
here, and the result in all cases would 
be a marked improvement in this 
important part of our church life. We 



give to t^e book oar hearty and earnest 

Lmui BcLixra vbom Baxala. Bj 

A. L. O. £. London and Edinbni^ : 

GaU & Ingiia. 

The stories and allegories — addressed 

especially to the natives of India, and 

intended to illnstrate the great facts of 

man's sin and his redemption by Jesns 

Christ — are written in a simple and 

attractive manner. The pictures of 

Indian life are faithfully drawn, and 

English children will be delighted with 

ihem. The book mnst have the effect of 

quickening our missionaiy zeal. 

WoBCHO IN THB Shase. By Bev. 
T. P. Wilson, M.A. London and 
Edinbnigh : Thomas Nelson & Sons. 

Bob CABJBOsrtsi Enext ; ob, the 


Rev. E. N. Hoare, M.A. Nelson & 

Two capital books, enforcing lessons 
with which all yonng people should be 
familiarised. " Working in the Shade " 
insists in very dear and decisive terms 
on the necessity of thorough untelJUh' 
nei$y and the subtle dangers to which 
we are exposed, even in our so-called 
good works. "Roe Carson's Enemy" 
inculcates the need of cherishing a spirit 
of forbearance and magnanimity, and 
of forgiving and aiding those who have 
wronged us. The incidents in each case 
form a pleasing story. 

Little Lottie's Pictube Galleby. 

Little Clasa's Pictube Gallebt. 

Papa's Pictube Album. London : 

Thomas Nelson & Sons. 
Books which are sure to find a hearty 
welcome in the nursery, each with one 
hundred illustrations from physical 
2iataiey the animal and vegetable world, 

scenes and customs of human life in the 
domestic and social circles at homeimd 

The Little Glsaneb : a Monthly 
Magarine for the Young. YoL 11^ 
New Series. London : Houlston & 
Sons, 7, Paternoster Buildings. 
Thobouohlt Scriptural in its teaching 
and Evangelical in its spirit, abounding 
in useful expositions of Biblical truth, 
illustrated by pertinent anecdotes, and 
indicating in every page innumerable 
ways of doing good. Children who read 
the LUUe Oleaner will be trained to 
habits of intelligent thought and Chris- 
tian virtue. The pleasurable and the 
profitable are happily blended. 

TsE MnnsTEB's Pocket Diabt and 
Clbbical Yadb Msouh. 1881. 
London: Hodder & Btoughton, 27, 
Paternoster Row. 
We have pleasure in calling the special 
attention of the ministers of all de- 
nominations to this most useful publi- 
cation. To ourselves in past years it 
has been invaluable, and the issue for 
the present year is, in every respect, 
what a busy miniatftr could wish it to 
be. In its table of contents we find 
such items as the following: — ^Postal 
information, Her Majesty's Ministers, 
Ecclesiastical information, Calendar for 
1881, list of Scripture lessons for 1881 ; 
registration of chapels, marriages, births, 
and deaths ; the Burial Laws Amend- 
ment Act, cemeteries, list of missionary 
and other societies. Scripture texts for 
the visitation of the sick, together with 
a clear notification of ample spaces 
arranged for entries of all kinds. The 
book is compact, firmly bound, and yet 
so light and small as to be carried in 
the pocket without the least incon- 



John the Baptist: an Epic Poem. 
In Three Books. By Henry C. 
Leonard, MJL London : James 
Clarke & Co., Fleet Street 1880. 

Although Mr. Leonard is no stranger 
to the readers of the Baptist Maga- 
zine, we have not previonsly known 
him as a poet. We are, however, glad 
that he has invited ns to meet him on 
this new ground. He has portrayed 
with rare skill and fidelity the genius 
and mission of our Lord's forerunner. 
With a firm hand he traces the develop- 
ment of his character, and depicts the 
surroundings by which he was neces- 
sarily influenced. His sketches of the 
social and religious life of the Jews, and 
of the marvellous scenes in which John 
was the most prominent figure (except, 
of course, in his contact with Christ), 
are powerfully drawn. His language 
is simple, natural, and efifective — the 
fitting vehicle for clear, fresh thought, 
suffused by deep and tender feeling, 
and enriched by the play of a chastened 
imagination. That Mr. Leonard has the 
eye and heart of a poet is very evident. 
His epic is well sustained, and contains 
many lines of great force and beauty. 

SoxGs OP Animal Lipe, and With 
the Bibds. Poems. By Maiy Howitt 
Each with Ninety lUustrations by 
Giacomelli. London: T. Nelson & 
Sons. 1880. 

The name of Mary Howitt is familiar 
as a household word, and by children 
is best known by her charming poetical 
sketches of '* Natural History for the 
Young." These sketches have passed 
through edition after edition, and the 
demand for them still increases. They 
ore here issued in two dainty litUe 
volumes, illustrated by one of the most 
distinguished of modem artists, whose 

work has added so greatly to the worthi 
of Michelet's "Bird" and "Nature." 
Volumes more attractive, either in their 
poetry, their artistic illustrations, the- 
clearness of their tjrpe, or the beauty 
of their bindings, we could not desire. 

Miss Margaret's Stories. By ''A 
Clergyman's Wife." London: Na- 
tional Temperance Publication Dep6t, 
337, Strand, W.C. 
QooD, sensible stories, lively and in- 
structive, dealing with eveiy-day temp> 
tations to intemperance, and pointing 
out the surest remedy to a widespread 
and terrible evil. 

The Mother's Friend. VoL XII., 
New Series. London : Hodder & 
A WORK which, in the best sense, is 
true to its title, with one good story 
continued throughout the year, and 
several short, pleasant papers, wise in 
counsel and powerful to solace and 
sustain amid the duties and trials of 
domestic life. 

California and its Wonders. By 
the Rev. John Todd, D.D. New 
Edition. Carefully Revised and 
brought down to the present time. 
London : Nelson & Sons, Paternoster 
Row. 1880. 
Dr. Todd's "California" is an old 
favourite, and is now presented in an 
improved form. From no book of the 
size can we obtain so vivid an idea of 
the land of gold, of its varied and 
majestic scenery, its stores of wealth, 
its capabilities and prospects. Dr. 
Todd is, for all intending emigrants, a 
thoroughly reliable guide, neither con- 
cealing difficulties nor exaggerating 
advantages, but placing before us a 
sober and accurate picture of things as 
they are. 




HE more interesting and beautiful an object, the more ready 
we are to welcome sketches of it from various points of 
view. This holds alike of the beauties of natural scenery 
and of noble and Christian character ; and this must be 
my reason for attempting to add one more to the sketches 
which have already appeared of the beloved and revered subject of 
these lines. Dr. Angus has reminded us of his parentage and early 
career, of his saintly piety, and of his numerous noble services to his 
denomination and to the universal Church of Christ. A corre- 
spondent in the FreeToan has, with filial reverence and discriminating 
care, recorded several memomble and characteristic traits of his 
inner thoughts and feelings, and of the manners and habits of his 
outward life ; while further details of these, with tender reminiscences 
of his last illness, have been added by other contributors to the Liver- 
pool journals. One fears to mar a portrait, sacred in the memory of 
so many, by a single incongruous touch ; yet it has been thought that 
there was room for a few more personal recollections from yet another 
point of view which might be interesting to those who loved hina. 
His personality is a rich field to glean from. Although he spent a 
quiet life, devoid of startling incidents, yet he himself, by a certain 
unique fascination of character, compelled in an unusual degree the 
attention and interest of all who knew him. You could not be in a 
company where he was present without a vivid consciousness of his 
subtle influence; and it has been noted by some of his intimate 
friends how frequently a conversation, begun upon quite other topics, 

50 Some Personal Recollections of the Late Rev. C. M. Birrelt. 

would gradually and naturally drift round to him and to the opinions 
which he would probably entertain respecting them, and then to his 
character in general, which was an unexhausted mine of interest 

He was a veiy memorable man. Who that ever met him could ever 
forget him t Who could forget thst £ne dignified preaBiice, spare and 
slight, bat stately; tiiot clear*ciit countenance, so ftdl of intelfigenee 
and expression ; that meajsured utterance, so accurate and so musical ? 
Who could forget his sweet smile of gentleness and benevolence ; or 
the frown which overcast Ms features when, stirred by something 
base or mean, he woidd draw back a step or two, and, with clenched 
hands and lips compressed, would almost luss out words of scathing 
indignation and scorn? He ofiben reminded me of the composite 
character of the Apostle John, yfho, generally ratd Tightly w^ardefl as 
the Apostle of Love, yet, when deeply stirred by the evil of sin on the 
one hand and by Igp^bII^ to his Lord on the ^)ther, emitted tiiose 
fliflheB <of fieiy indignatien which vfom, for him the title of the Son of 
Tfaisdfiic IThose who only knew Mr. Binell in im tisual and g^itler 
moods would hardly imagine how fearless and faithftil uyd powerful 
he ixmld be in stem rebuke. His perfect manner «jad finished culture 
fitted him to adorn any society into which he JB%ht -eater* While bo 
eBnnently a man ctf God, he was yet in the best sense a man of the 
wodd — a Juan of vacied reading, obaervatim, and traevel; an excdUent 
man <of business, a proficiaait in the art of ecniveisatian, a gentleman 
of ithe old Bchool in his fine Christian courtesy. Some of his younger 
friends weie wont playfully to speak of hiia as ^ the Bishop," and a 
bishop or other CSiuxdi dignitary he probably wonld have become 
hadvot his conscience oofspeUed hdm to take up his position «n what 
was tonce called by Mt; Sinney '* the shady side oi the hedge.** As it 
was, his power of ieadii^ was S^ and freely leaponded to by his 
fellow^C&iastians and iellow*4ownsBaen of all denominations. Ifinis- 
ten sie not to be lonk over Ood's hedtage^ but they are to be leaders, 
and he was a bom leader of men*. Ihe title <tf AigSiBaemnoB» *' King 
of Men^" might have been well ajp{died tx) hiat, not thzon^ any dairn-^ 
hxgfA sathoijty on his own part, but thsou^ the inesktible mi(gfat of 
his9enllBiafllifiQoe,wiI]inglyyieldedtob7otheE& In oonanittses, his 
prsseooe wasinvaluaUe in extticating the business faoaa ontai^lfiniantt 
Even in a laige azid stenny mooting, thoo^ his voioe was not 
poveEfiil, and thou^ his phpical fcaaie was feeble, ho was aUe by 
viitas of his monil inflaenoe to eomasaad a victoxj, Oaa instsnoo of 

Some Perjmal Reealkctums of the JJUe Ren. C. M, BtntelL 51 

this jnay be giveo. Dining tibe Ameuksaii Wax, Jfr. BinoU, dt seed 
scarcely be said, was a* earnest a«ppoirter of tibe North. SmAam 
feeling ran very Jbighin Liverpool, and at.a (great xneetdiig in >the I4iil- 
harmoaic Hall Mr. Henry Ward Baecher, who wn pleading the cMse 
of the North with all the splendour of his eloqnenoB and wit, was, 
dniing a considerable portion of bia spBedi, unable Id obtain a bear- 
ing. The storm was stilled when Kr. Bimll rose ; and m perfect 
quietness be aceomplisbed the feat of sayh^ QOEaetly what <he wanted. 

In presiding over xneetingB of the cfamzcbea^ Mr. Hinell 'was seen 
perhaps almost at bis best In 1876 be waa Moderater of the 
Lancafibiie and Cheshire .Aasociation, and it devolved tipon him to 
welcome back into the Association the irepsesentatives of several 
diarches which some years previously had felt constrained to with- 
draw, but now, to the joy of their brethren, saw their way clear to 
return. No one who was present could iail to remember tiie dignity 
and grace with whidi he gave the right band of ieUowship to each of 
the ministers of the returning churches, having previously expressed 
his own feelings in lelation to the incident in these wise and discrimi- 
nating words, which seem singularly duDracteiistic of bis compre- 
hensive bent of mind and largeness of heart : — 

" I think that there is a more oonsot view taken than there used 
to be of the liberty «of thought to which .earery one is entitled, as well 
as of the extent to which co-operation 'wdth those who differ from us 
may justly reach. It is more distino% eeen that to require, in order 
to joint labour, uniformity in the dstails of Oboxch government, or 
ideatieal phraseology in the expression of reUgious truth, is not only 
to make such joint labanr impossible except at the oo£rt of sincerity, 
hot to depart from apostolic teaching and example. It is no evidence 
of my approval of .all a man's opinions that I approve of some of 
them ; and hecaafle he joins with me in the prosecution of one great 
object, I am not enfitled to insist that he shcill help me to secure 
every oldwr on (adddh my heart may be set. 60 long as xdiurdhee 
thiak tiiat'they aaee Tftaprmirihle -far e^iytbing bdieved and done by 
their sister chnrofaes, theytwill ibe veoosd '>by incosasnt suspicion and 
contcovseray ; but vdien all dudd and pabUth ^Miatever they think 
thqy finddn the fWbid of Ood, and'omnlmie *in pmjrerBnfl Mbouor as 
hras tiny are ogieed, tiiqrwill piwant^' strong front to the enony. 
Suoh,.! hope^ wiHtfae -the Msnlt «tf ithe iroa^mnon, which we eetebrote 
to*d«y, of GhttschBB ^Whidi, in rite tntth's 'sake, retired from our 

52 Some Personal Recollechom of the Late Rev. C. M. Birrell. 

Aflsociation, and now, for the truth's sake, return to it. If we respected 
the conscientious difficulties which led to our loss, we cannot but 
respect the conscientious impulse which now leads to our gain. There 
is no snrrender of principle on either side, but an accession to the 
treasury of love, and to the number of fellow-soldiers." 

This is true Christian breadth ; and the expression of it is the more 
valuable because, as is well known, Mr. Birrell was fervently attached 
to Evangelical principles in the best and truest sense of that term. 

His sympathies were always warm, liberal, and catholic, and he had 
a deep and sincere affection for all good men, although they might 
exhibit very various and even opposite forms of Christian thought, and 
feeling, and life, provided that the life itself was genuine and real 
The Scheme for United Prayer for the first week of this year, issued 
by the Evangelical Alliance, was drafted by his pen. He was a 
decided Baptist, but he was no less decidedly in favour both of open 
communion and of open membership. For these principles he fought 
the hardest battle of his life, which ended in his departure from 
Byrom Street, where he began his ministry, and in the erection of 
Pembroke ChapeL He was a decided Nonconformist — decided in his 
objection to the connection of Church and State ; but he was no 
less warm in his appreciation of all that ia good and true 
and beautiful in the literature, the services, and the preaching 
of the Church of England. It was one of his treats, he 
told me, in his later years, to listen to the sermons of Canon liddon 
at St. Paul's Cathedral — sermons which he admired for their intel- 
lectual wealth, but quite as much for their clear statement and 
close personal application of the Gospel of Salvation. This 
element of simplicity and directness in preaching, with all his ripe 
Christian experience and fastidious taste, he positively hungered for ; 
and whether he got it from Mr. Moody, in Victoria Hall at Liverpool, 
or under the dome of St. Paul's, he was well pleased. The breadth 
of his sympathy and interest in all forms of Christian activity was 
further shown in his studious acquaintance with the missionary 
operations of all branches of the Church of Christ in all parts of the 
world, in his fervent prayers for missionaries, and in the hospitable 
reception with which he welcomed them to his house. During the 
lifetime of the noble wife whose bright character and conversation added 
such a charm to his fireside, he ddighted in assembling a few friends 
to meet his foreign guest, and then, with that skill which amounted 

Same Personal Recollections of the Late Rev. C. M. Btrrell. 53 

to a fine art^ he would draw him out, and lead the conversation at his 
will from one topic to another, to the profit and enjoyment of the 
whole assembled circle. While, owing to his physical feebleness, 
somewhat of a recluse, with a touch even of the ascetic, so far as 
his own personal comforts were concerned, he was very social in his 
own way. At times, when he was somewhat off his guard, there 
would shoot out rich gleams of "dry" Scottish humour, and 
sometimes of pungent satire, and it was a treat to watch his restrained 
enjoyment of the brilliant wit of one of his choicest friends in the 
meetings of a small ministerial club at which, during his later years 
in Liverpool, he was a constant attendant. Much of the distinctive- 
ness of his character, which marked him off from other men, and 
leaves his portraiture now so sharply defined in the memory of his 
friends, was due to the keenness of his sense of propriety and to the 
acimien of his critical faculty. " The critics ! — the critics are those 
who have failed," Lord Beaconsfield makes one of his characters say. 
He was a critic certainly, not because he had failed, but because a 
singularly pure taste, and the aspiration after an extremely high 
standard, were part of his natural constitution. He criticised archi- 
tecture, pictures, ornaments, furniture, books, sermons, preachers, 
characters ; and there was no person whom he criticised so searchingly 
as himself, no work so searchingly as his own. I think he was fas- 
tidious to a fault. " If Mr. Birrell would now and then make a slip 
in his preaching, it would be quite a comfort," said a judicious friend, 
who thoroughly appreciated and admired him. He watched himself 
almost too closely, and managed himself almost too carefully ; and it 
was this element of combined criticism and self-consciousness which 
made him not always at ease with others, and made others, who stood 
somewhat in awe of his judgment, not always at ease with him ; but 
it was a self-consciousness which always took the lowest view of 
himself, as he looked up with loving reverence to the great saints and 
sages of the Church, and to the glorious Lord, who is Head over all. 
Such a character and life as his could not but gather round itself 
many of the excellent of the earth; and it would be difficult to 
find, in the records of Nonconformity, a band of men more spiritually 
intelligent, devout, and benevolent than those who surrounded the 
pastor of Pembroke Chapel in its palmy days. It was the custom, at 
the week-evening service, in the school-room beneath the chapel, for 
the deacons to sit in a row immediately to the left of the desk. 

14 Sofm Personal RoBottmHons of the Late Rev. €. M. BtrrelL 

Uieie lihey i^gulaxlj aaaanbled, all ol them, week after week; for 

Wedbesdagr eyemng waa kept with 8cni|ntloufi laitiifalnesB for the 

worahip of God These sat Mi*. John Cropper, friend and helper of 

everj good work, hia radiant face b^uning with benevolence ; beside 

him Mr. Gruy Medl^, Mr.. Jbaioh Jones, and others, whose names are 

household words, not only amongst Nonconformists, but amongst all 

who are interested in die Christian life of Liverpool And from the 

chnirch meeting in that wellrBemembered school-room there hwve gone 

forth earnest and gifted men of a younger generation, amongst whom 

may be named Quintin Tliomson to missionary enterprise in Africa ; 

"William Medley to the training ol students for the ndnistiy at 

Bawdon CoU^e ; and Edward Medley to the work of the ministiy at 

Nottingham— -each of them carrying on, and in some form and degree 

representing, the teaching and impulse c^ the truly great mind under 

whose forming influence, at the most plastic period of their lives, they 

were providentially biou^t; and thus the echoes of his voice are 

rtill discerned, and the effects of his influence still are felt. So 

magnetic was his own personality that of him, more than of most 

even eminent men, it may be said that, " he being dead, yet speaketh.'^ 

His departure from us leaves a great sad blank, not only in the loss 

of the individual full of gifts and graoe, but may it not cJmost be said 

in the loss of one of the most perfect specimens of a type ? Other 

fine specimens of the type do still remain; but the remarkable 

changes of the last quarter of a century have included the tone of 

Nonconformist ministers and churches within their soope. With 

much of what is best in the modem spirit, Mr. Birrell was thoroughly 

acquainted and thoroughly in sympathy ; while, at the some time, he 

represented in his mode of thought and feeling, and in his manner of 

life, much of what is best in the past 

'*' The old order dumgeth, yieldiiig place to new r 
And Qod fnlfik Himself in many ways." 

Let us be thankful to God for the new, and thankful to God for 
the old, and especially thankful as we remember one who so richly 
eombined in his large loving heait and life the best of both — the first 
minister of Pembroke ChapeL '^ Bemember them wbieh haire the rule 
over you" (better, your guides or youir leadens) " who lume spoken uniio 
jrou tiie Word of God ; whose &ith follow, considering the end of their 
oonveEsation. Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to-day,iind for er^er.*^ 

liverpooL F. H. Bobabts. 



Siinv %miiatn ia k (Qntslzon of ^migfixisawt ia §0ung;. 

IffiHi catch you witii gnile, and ao I will tell you straightway 

yffiSF* ^'^ question I mean is this : " Why do you not 

^\ become decided ChiiBtians ?'* The two answers to that 

question with which I now venture, in a homeljr way, 

tx) deal are such ae I have often heard fix>m the lips of suoh persons 

as youxselves. 

I shall not assume that you are either sceptical* or, in any sense, 
iounoral* It is enou^ for my purpose to regard' you as failing 
to take a position as avowed disciples of Christ. I address you 
as parsons of some intelligencer. You have been fairly " educated.'' 
Tou are fond of books ; and you do not waste your time upon trashy 
novels and newspaper gossip. Tou are too well-bred to resent such 
words as I here offer to your notice as savouring of meddlesomeness 
on my part. You will not gruffly say to me : ** Mind your own 
bnsiness. We can do very well without your garrulous, puritanical 
wisdom, and shall like you the better the less you preach to us.'' 
Ihie, the young- are often impatient under advice from those who are 
farther on in life, as though an ill^itimate attempt were being made 
to lestndn tiiie free exercise of their powers, to check their pleasures, 
and to stunt their growth. But you to whom I now write have 
raacfaed an age ^en some sense of the solemnity of life, and of the 
responsibility attaching to it^ ought to have been awakened ; and it is 
to that sense that I would appeal 

I dare say that to you, at present, life wears very much tbe 
appsKDonce of a lotteiy> in which character, r^mtation, and all tjbie 
Ymow forms of prosperity are at stake. When every allowanoe has 
been made for the appointments cf Divine Providence, and for the 
power of human porpose, the question as to whether you shall be 
naed up or cast down — whether you shall be rich or poor^whet^er 
you shall be famous^ or obscure — whether you shall be honourable 
or ignoble, are m yet open questions wit^ you — problems which 
have yet to be^ solVed. The world is full of temptations which^ you 

Two Answers to a Question of Importance to 

may be sure, will come very close to you, and in the toils of wHch 
you may be caught. It has under its control many gilded captivities, 
into some of which you may be betrayed. Will you discover the 
hoUowness and vanity of the world soon enough to avoid its snares ? 
Or will the caution so essential to your preservation remain unde- 
veloped until the mould of your destiny has been taken ? These are 
solemn alternatives. I mention them because the consideration of 
them may help you the better to appreciate the importance of the 
object I have now in view. In the culture and the maintenance of a 
truly Christian life you will find the surest guarantee of a life which 
shall be truly noble, useful, and happy. 

I do not foi^et that there is a reluctance to cultivate the Christian 
life on the part of such as yourselves springing out of what you see, 
or think you see, around you. How have I heard some of your own 
class talk — ^young men and women of some intelligence and some 
smartness of mind ? I have heard them talk after this fashion : — 

" You ask us to become Christians. But what is Christianity ? 
What are we to believe ? Give us a theology which can command 
the assent of the religious world, and which shall be so rational that 
we ourselves can verify it, and the way for a religious life on our 
part will be more clear. But just look at the chaotic confusion of 
modem religious thought. Listen to the theological babblement that 
is everywhere going on. What multiplied and multiform religious 
antagonisms there are on every side of us ! When you agree amongst 
yourselves, we will give our attention to what you say." 

Such is the style in which many smart young men and women of 
our time talk ; and, because they can talk in that style, they seem to 
consider that they are exempt from all obligation to commit themselves 
to a definitely and decidedly Christian life. 

Let me assure you that this argument is utterly flimsy, and the 
conclusion drawn from it utterly false. Suppose that the facts are 
as thus reported ; what then ? Do those facts render it either im- 
possible or needless for you to judge of the great question of religion 
for yourselves ? Clearly, the very antagonism of which you complain 
is itself a public testimony to the supreme importance of religion 
Those who take part in the strife are not " making much ado about " 
what they believe to be " nothing." If they did not believe it to be 
something, they would not trouble themselves and each other so 
greatly about it If you are inclined to snub the strife as '' mudi 

Young Men and Women. 57 

ado about nothing," that is because your inclination prompts you, not 
to the religious indifference which is only another name for religious 
neutrality, but to an imbelieving rejection of religious obligations of 
every kind, in which case you are outsiders, not because you are be- 
wildered by what is stigmatised as " the Babel confusion of theological 
tongues," but because you have taken the extreme position of the 
disbeliever who says : " There is no God ; or, if there be a God, it is 
not possible for man to know anything about Him, and it is therefore 
irrational for man to suppose that he sustains any practical relations 
to Him." I am not dealing in this address with Atheists and 
Agnostics, but with you who say : " How can we be Christians in a 
Christendom which is torn to pieces by conflicting Christian factions?" 
To that question the reply is this : What have you to do with the 
so-called factions as such t They all profess to find their authority 
in Christ. Go to Christ for yourselves. You will be judged, not by 
what others think and do, but by your own thoughts and your own 
conduct. Even if it could be proved that every other person in the 
world, through some twist in the judgment or some perversity in the 
heart, had failed to find the truth in regard to this great matter of 
religion, that is no reason why you should decline the search. In 
spite of such a discouragement, you ought to try. Others may have 
more or less erred in the opinions they have formed ; you are certain 
to err if you say, " I will not, on that account, trouble myself to form 
any opinions at aU." 

Besides, a great deal of the " antagonism " which offends you is 
superficial rather than radical If you would exert yourselves to look 
deeply, you would see this. There is vastly more agreement amongst 
what you call '' the contending factions " than appears on the surface. 
Protestants can read to edification the writings of the good Thomas 
4 Kempis. Thousands of Church people relish the sermons of Mr. 
Spnigeon week by week ; whilst thousands of Dissenters have read 
with inexpressible delight the magnificent lectures on the Divinity 
of Christ by Canon Liddon — a delight which his pronounced High 
Churchism has not sufiGiced to diminish. I, myself, heard the same 
great preacher, his High Churchism and high culture notwithstanding, 
award hearty praise to the labours of Messrs. Moody and Sankey in 
the pulpit of the Oxford University. I fiind even the h3mins of such 
Unitarians as Dr. Bowring and Mrs.- Barbauld in our orthodox h}rmn- 
books side by side with those of Toplady and Doddridge, The 

38 Two Ansvmrs to a Question of Importance to 

British and Fardga Bible Society is supported b^ all Ftotestaat 
denominations. Baptists, Congregationalists, and MetbodistB can 
meet, in: mntual confidence and Ixotherly love, on the same platfonn. 
Dean Stanley has preached from a Presbjrterian pulpit, and he would 
welcome such Nonconformists as Dr. Stoughton and Newman Hall 
to the pulpit of Westminster Abbey next Sunday if the law dE the 
Established Church would allow him to do so. My dear young 
friends, what does all this sort of thing mean ? Will you explain it 
by the haieh words " Inconsistency " and " Compromise " ? How 
can yon do so when you have been denouncing Christians of different 
sects for what you consider to be their bitter and relentless antagon- 
isms to each other ? The two allegations do not hang together. No I 
There is another and a truer solution of the apparent anomaly ; and 
it lies in the consciousness common to Christians of every name that 
the things in which they agree are fieur more fundamental and more 
important than the things in which they differ. The dififerences are 
undoubtedly grave enough, and it is out of these that the spirit of 
denominationalism springs. But the agreements^ being deeper and 
more vital, are a testimony from Christendom as a whole that 
religious truth is not the undisGoverable and uncertain tiling which 
the antagonisms of Christendom, viewed on the surfioce, seem to you 
to imply. Thus these antagonisms form no excuse for religious 
indifference on your part. You should allow your judgment to be 
swayed and your conduct determined by the imities of religious belief 
rather than by its diversities. 

I have another remark to make at this point. I have just alluded 
to the unities and the diversities of religious bdlief which prevail in 
the Christian w<]rld. Both are what mi^t have been naturally 
expected. The former are to be traced to t&e fact that Grod has given 
to man a revelation of His ^nll ; the latter to t^e action of the human 
mind in the interpretation of that revelation. It is not to be supposed 
that Grod has endowed man witJi religious capacities, and yet left him 
in ignorance as to the uses to which those capacities are to be applied. 
Truth has no practical power until it is perceived, and it is not i)er- 
ceived until it is revealed. Man tiiinks by the law of his being; but 
there is no guarantee whatever that, if left to himself, his thinking 
will take the right course, and wffl lead to right conclusions. We see 
that this must be so, from the known constitution of the mind, and 
also from the history of the race. If man is to apprehend the 

Young Men and Wonmu 59 

mlfltinffwi ha iBftarnH ta God, and tiis duties ha onras to Him, he must 
be infDimed, on Biraie anthoixty, as to what those lelatkms and duties 
ase. This zevdfltion, accordii^ to all Christian testimonj, has heen 
given ; and the wondeiM approach to unitj in Chiistendom in regard 
to aU that is deepest and most vital in the Christian faith is evidence 
of the fiEtct that so &r, at all events, the revelation is so plain that 
''the wayfaring man, thongh a fool, need not err therein." 

"Very wdi," yon say; ''but how comes it to pass that equally 
sincere men do not think alike over the whole range of religious 
doctrine ? Why do &ey, in relation to so many points, doctrinal and 
practical, read the Divine testimony so differently ? " The answer is 
at hand. The divaraity is accounted for by the verjr* simple and 
obvious &ct tJiat the fallibility of man is move likely to lead him into 
mistakes when he is judging of the minuter details of Chnatian truth 
than when he is dealing with its simpler and more original elements. 
Li all this, however, we have a plea, not for indifference, but for 
redoubled earnestness. Your sense of reqKmsibility shoidd not be 
weakened — ^it should rather be intensified — by all that you see of 
unity and diversity in the religious world around you. 

But I come to the second answer to our question. You say: 
'' What aie we to do ? This religious life to which you call us is full 
of difficulties — ^not theological only, but practical also ;'*-difficulties 
which seem to us to be insurmpuntable. Even when we have got 
over the doctiinal trouble, and when we see our way to something 
like faith, we are discouraged — ^yea, even dismayed — ^by the confilicting 
leqniiementB which are bound to come upon us. How are we tomain- 
tain the right balance between rival interests and claims ? How are we 
to ac^nst the antagonistic requirements of faith and reason, of humility 
and self-respect, of confidence and awe, of hope and: fear, of courage 
and caxition, o£ the visible and the inviable, of the psesent and the 
fotore ? 7aith tenda to credulity or to pmsumption ; humility to 
the starving out of all i^pbit; catholicity to compromise ; justice to 
baldness; mercy to conmvance; independence to arrogance; gene- 
loaty to improvidence ; cheerfulness to levity; sobriety to dullness ; 
purity to prudery ; freedom to licentiousness. Sudi difficulties baffle 
and appal us ! " 

Yes, you may well say so ; and if you have not said it before, it 
will do you good to say it now. In saying it, you go more nearly to 
the root of the matter. If you are to become earnestly and consist- 

6o Two Answers to a Question of Importance. 

ently Christian, you must contemplate the higher ideals of manhood ; 
and no one knows hetter than I do that these are not easily reached. 
But do you not know the meaning, and can you not catch the in- 
spiration, of Longfellow's poem — *' Excelsior " ? If you will give a 
little wise and earnest thought to the subject, you will see that these 
ideals are worth all possible aspiration and effort. The more nearly 
you can approach them, the nobler you wiU become. Difl&culty ! 
Only cowards shrink from difficulty; the brave regard it as an 
opportunity for the exercise and development of energies in the con- 
sciousness and the cultivation of which they rejoice with exceeding joy. 
Young people do not like to be thought chicken-hearted. Here is scope 
for the highest powers you possess — a mark for the richest prize you 
can win. What say you ? — " I want to be free for a living and loving 
sympathy with the spirit of Nature. I want to be free for the 
scientific exploration of Nature's laws and secrets. I want to be 
free for the study of poetry, of history, of philosophy. I want to be 
free for the acquirement of large and various learning. I want to be 
free to follow up with energy my calling in life." Quite right. I 
like to hear you speak thus. These are all glorious freedoms — well 
worth conserving — arvi ChristianUy is the friend of every one of them ! 
You start at the assertion. I tell you that the men and women who 
have shone most resplendently in these various occupations have 
done so because they could carry into them the Divine light of the 
religion of Christ. Your work will be all the nobler, and your enjoy- 
ment of it will be all the sweeter, if your supreme desire be to do all 
to the glory of Grod. I know that without Christ you can do nothing 
well. But you can do all things with Him to strengthen you. Let 
Him dwell in your hearts *by faith — ^your Light, your Strength, your 
Peace, your Glory. I would arouse the soul within you. That soul 
is not mortal either in its essence or in its destiny, whatever the 
materialistic philosophers may say. Its Father is GU)d. A great 
price has been paid for its redemption. The purest of earth's charms 
are insufficient for its happiness. It was made for heaven ; to heaven 
let it go. Turn a common-sense mind and an imprejudiced, trusting 
heart to Christ, and you will find, in a blessed experience, that He is 
" the Way." Editob. 



<&tm^ (ffliurf/' 

HE death of this eminently gifted and remarkably popular 
writer has naturally occasioned the profoundest grief in all 
our literature Joving circles, — a regret which we instinct- 
ively share, although we cannot recognise her as having 
contributed in any good degree to the formation of healthy 
ideas and sentiments on the great subject of religion. 

This judgment, we are fully aware, will be ascribed, in certain 
quarters, to theological narrowness on our part. We ourselves, of 
coarse, should dispute that explanation. We should be sorry to be 
''narrower" than Christian truth and charity dictate, and are always 
open to any correction which established fact and fair reasoning may 
substantiate. Viewed in their literary aspect, and in the superb 
developments of genius and of culture which they supply, the 
writings of this great authoress have no more ardent admirers 
anywhere than ourselves. In these respects few writers of her sex 
have excelled her, and it may be a long time before we shall see her 

There is one element in her influence, however, which does not 
appear to have been generally noticed, but which we cannot but 
regard as surreptitious and unfair. She sums to be a Christian vritlumt 
Christianity. She appropriates, in an informal way, the higher moral 
teachings of Christ without acknowledging, so far as we remember, 
the source from which they have come. Perhaps an exception should 
be made in favour of " Adam Bede ; " but apart from that captivating 
book — on the whole, the best of all her novels — ^we do not recollect 
any reverential or deferential allusions in her writings to Christ as a 
Teacher, or as an Example, or as a Saviour ; and yet, as she writes on, 
she seems to hold to the rectitude and the majesty of the law of self- 
sacrifice for the good of others — ^just that kind of intense and loving 
interest in others which expresses itself in toil and self-denial for 
their welfare, but of which we look in vain for full-length instances 
outside the sphere in which theoretical and practical Christianity 
is working. She does not help her readers to believe in and worship 
God, to cherish a comforting and quickening trust in Providence, to 
anticipate a real and conscious life beyond the grave, or to 

62 " George Eltoty 

repair for deliverance from the guilt and the power of sin to Him 
who is set forth in the Gospel as the Redeemer of the world. In her 
novels she does not controvert, nor does she expressly repudiate, the 
teachings of Christianity. She only leaves them unmentioned. And 
yet, taking her stand appasEcntly as an outoider, she certainly does 
inculcate a great deal of what gives to practical Ocnstianity its 
highest distinction. 3ie does not conntenonee vice in any of its 
forms of sensuality, falsehood, or imkindness. She demaiads all the 
social virtues. She gives to evil all its featnires of ugliness — ^to good 
all its features of beauty. We suppose that her knotwn rejection of 
Christianity had an intellectual ratheir than a moral and 'spiritual 
origin, and that it was based on metaphysical and scientific grounds. 
We are inclined to hope ttett there was no leal hostility in her heart 
to the Christ of the Kew Testament, to the Father whom He has 
revealed, to the faith He inculcates, or to the disciples whom He 
acknowledges. She simply, for the][mQst pait, gives all these matters 
the go-by, and develops with rare elaborateness and skill her own 
lofty ideal of human character, in its personal and social aspects, as 
though the Christianity which has, in reality, supplied her with that 
ideal had no existence. This may have been undesigned. Probably 
it was so, but at any rate it is deeply to be regretted. *' Adam Bede " 
stands apart from her other books in regard to these mattexs. With 
our ways of thinking, it is not easy to imderstand how the youthful 
txanslator of Strauss could have produced a book oharaoterised by so 
intense a religious glow« Subsequent literary associations eontiibuted 
to make her Uie '' Agnostic '* she became. She is gone, and death has 
taught her, as it is dei^ined to teadi us all, Jjeo* giaeater lessofns than 
she was able to leazn from life. 

We cannot forbear to eacpress on this page our tfaankfulness for the 
letter addressed soon after the foneral to 4he Ikmcmg^irnuMt cmd 
Independent by the liev. Edwasd White, who w» a flpeotator ef the 
mournful, but.instrudai^e, scene. How ehigiilar :that ja acefddc raah as 
was the deceased attthoress should haw had a diatiiictuTely Christian 
burial I Believeis -and Agnoetics rmw^f^ati in a oommoa gtief 'md a 
common sympathy avonnd her ^Eave-^onesi and women to whom 
Christ is ''All, axxdin aU,'' andatlien "nvho hmeimm ^teaefaing 42ie 
English naitiQn far thirty yean, as Ihe iMBult of iheirinqiiixui into 
matter and mind, ftot we en ihncrw ACtUiigaf the CBcMwiice of a 
perseoal •€M, m tot m iaiR im icome; dod^ nimclMB, esfieoiaatr Hke 


George Eltoty 63 

alibied miracles of Christ, are incredibilities ; and who have been giving, 
diiro^ an this tbne, the whate tvcd^t of their authority to pcqmlar 
adieism firom Britain to Japan." And what were the sentiments with 
which thej parted from their friend — ^the &iend who had endeavoured 
""to affirm that death, the loss of all conscious existence, is a sort 
of moral gain, or the loss of all selfishness, by the utter abolition 
of self " ? Dr. Sadlier, " the spokesman in this unparalleled gathering," 
and a gezttitman who ''bdiBves as litUe as possible of supematoral 
Ckristifinity,'' ntft oaiy nade an address to a living and personal Grod, 
involdng TiJA cave over the departed spirit, and Wa providential con- 
trol of the awrvivDTS till they, too, should enter Pavadisei, but he went 
on as foUo ws in addressing them :— 

'Mf feUow-motimen, not witti eaithly acffectioiui only, but aLso mtii heavenly 
kipe^ let us now Mfil tfaw'dmty wltieh is hud upon us. ... As the noblest 
lives are 1^ tmesty so are the loftiest faithB. It would be strange that she should 
b&Te czeated immortal things^ and yet be no more than mortal herself. It would 
be Bizange if names and influences were immortal, and not the souls which gave 
tbem immortality. No ; the love and grief at parting are prophecies, and cling- 
ing memories are an aMding pledge of a better life to came. So, then, we may 
take home the words of Christ : ' Let not your heart be tooaUed ; ye believe in 
Qod, helieipe idso in Me. In My Father's house are many mansions.' Qreat and 
dear fciendy we bid thee far^iv^ell, but only for a little while, till death shall come 
again and unite for ever those whom He has separated for a time." 

We have here, indeed, a singular scene. What thoughts arose in 
the minds of these Agnostic mourners as they were listening to such 
strong and yet tender utterances of ChristianlJfaith and hope ? Why 
were the well-known opinions of the deceased on life, death, and 
inunoitality so deliberately and confidently transcended by her 
eulogist as the grave was closing over her body ? Will our Spencers 
and onr Harrisons, fresh from such a grave, dip their pens again into 
scq)tical ^r\^ and write ^gain the " I know not, and I believe not," 
which looked so grim, and which was felt to be so false when the 
farewell WBa taken with the sweet words of the Gospel of the rejected 
Smour:8onndii^ in their ears ? It is likely enough that they will, 
for philoeqphical pride is loth to bow to the Nazaiine when He 
says, '' I am the fiesunection and the life," and then vindicates 
Himself by zecaUiug the dead Lazarus alive from the tomb. But 
Faith willfatruggle on till Doubt is extinct, and Hope will outlive 
Despair, and Chzist will " rej^^ till He hath ^ut all enemies imder 
His feet." 


Cj^siiatnis b* Soma in ^tMion ia Pmnan SitxSmng.^ 

" And when he came to himHf^ he said, How many hired seirants of my father's 
have hiead enongh and to spare, and I peziah with hunger ! "—Luks xv. 17. 

HEBE are two questions which it is our duty to put to eveiy 
one who clainus to come to us as a teacher from God. The 
first : " What have you to tell us concerning the nature of 
God ? " the second : " What have you to teU us concern- 
ing the nature of man ? " 
Every religion must have its theory concerning both God and 
man. We have a right to ask every religious teacher for these 
theories before we hear him speak of the relations and duties that 
arise out of them ; and by their truth or falsehood, all the rest that 
he has to say must be judged — so far, at least, as this : that if he tells 
us anything concerning God, or anything concerning man, which is 
demonstrably false we must reject him. 

Now, of these two tests, it is quite clear which is the simpler and 
more easy to apply. Obviously the second. We do know the nature 
of man, or think we do ; of the Divine Nature we are necessarily in 
comparative ignorance. 

To this test I am about to submit that religion in which we profess 
to believe. There is a theory concerning man's nature and condition 
on which the whole of this book — ^the Bible — ^is based. We are to 
ask you to consider whether this theory approves itself to you as true, 
and we are to contrast it with other theories which you are asked to 
accept instead of it. K the theory be demonstrably false to our 
nature, we cannot accept it. If it be demonstrably true, commending 
itself to our innermost being, so that, when the teacher speaks, the 
very flesh and heart cry out : " I know it to be true by what I feel 
within me," then we are prepared to go with the teacher as he tells 
us of the things that we have not seen, of God and of our relations to 
Him, and of the duties, hopes, fears, promises, and helps of the future 
— the infinite future — ^that lies in the relations between humanity 
and God. 

* The sabstaooe of a Semion preached before the Uniyertity of Oxford on Adrtaat 
Sunday, September 28ih, 1S80, by the Bishop of Peterborough. 

Christianity v. Science in Relation to Human Suffering. 65 

What, then, is the test to which we propose to submit the theory of 
the Bible concerning the nature of man? It is the test of an 
admitted and notorious fact. That fact is described in the verse I 
have read to you, and it is that of iht exceptional unhappiness of man^ 
Our Lord in this parable confronts this fact, as every teacher of the 
Gospel, or Good News, must do if he is to win the attention of men. 
The hero of this story is more than a sufferer — ^he is an exceptional 
sufferer. All the other creatures in the parable — ^the hired servants 
in the father's house — ^have bread and to spare: he alone suffers 
hunger. He is even a strangely exceptional sufferer, for he who 
suffers is immensely superior to those who are happy. They are but 
the hired servants ; he is the son, raised above them all in nearness 
to the father and ruler of the household. Yet he alone is perishing 
with hunger ! Is this a true description of humanity ? 

That man is unhappy we know. That, at least, is mere conmion- 
place human experience. The poet, the philosopher, the moralist, the 
satirist treat it in different ways, but they all acknowledge it. Men 
may laugh at this life of ours, as they do, in one mood ; or weep over 
it, as they do, in another. They may madden as they pore over the 
mystery of human sorrow. But the confession of all alike, at one 
time or another, is the same : " Man that is bom of woman hath but a 
short time to live, and is full of misery." 

But man is not only unhappy — ^he is the most unhappy creature in 
creation ! Is not the life of the lower animals one of pure physical 
enjoyment? They are unvexed by care, untroubled by anxiety, 
unhaunted by the fear of death. Man is a strange exception to all this. 
How comes it, as you ascend from one rank to another, in the order 
of animal existence, by slow and regular and imiform progression, that 
man, the outcome of ages, the perfection and glory of all these exist- 
ences, each glorying in its perfection, and each in its turn contributing 
something as it grew up and passed away out of the scale of creation, 
or passed into something higher — ^how is it that, when you come to 
this crown and glory of all creation, you come to something infinitely 
more unhappy than all the rest ? Man seems to pay the price of his 
high rank and standing in the great household of the universe by 
this— that he is capable of an infinity of agonies. We may be fairly 
told that this is but the working out of a great law that governs all 
creation — ^that the susceptibility to pleasure must always be pur- 
chased by a corresponding susceptibility to pain. And so it may be 


66 Christiamfy v. Science in Relation to Human Suffering. 

said that, if man is at times the most unhappy, he is also at times the 
most happj creatuie in^ereation, and that a happy man is infinitely 
happier tiian a happy brute. Thisi is true. And yet what a strange, 
. sad outlook this gives us for the progress of the raoe, of which we 
heas so much in our day t Is it true that man's infinite progress 
. towards perfedacm must^stilljbe an infinite progress towards pain ? Is 
the crown, of completion that science has to offer to humanity so 
largely and so necessarily a crown of thorns 7 

But this, is not: alL The strangest thing is, that man differs from 
all the other creatures that we know of in this respect — thai he is 
often ttThhappy directly in proportion to the extent to which he dbeye his 
own natwre. All anima]fl» save man, seem to be subject to a twofold 
law. Each animal has its ijistincts and i^petites ; and in the climate, 
or element, in which it exiats there are corresponding objects for the 
-gratification of these. It has the portion of goods that falleth to it, 
and it therefore needs and desires no more. Now rise from the 
animal to the man, in whom^there is but a slight anatomical difference 
of structure and nature from the anthropoid ; and then you come to 
the strange fact that this law is reversed, and you have to deal with a 
creature who is eminently unhappy, just because he has obeyed his 
strongest impulses. He is pained &om two different sources — satiety 
and remorse. Give a man aU the portion of goods that can fall to 
him, all that in his wildest dreams of covetousness he can desire for 
himself. Give him health, wealth, strength, keen intellect, vivid 
imagination, giati&ed ambitions. Heap these on him in abundance, 
and let him revel in the fulness of his enjoyment; and if humaai 
history and experience tell us anything, they tell us tUs — ^that when 
he has enjoyed these things to the full, and just because he has eiyoyed 
them, there begins to be felt a famuie in his enjoyment — there comes 
the weariness of satiety. The eye is not satisfied with all its seeing, 
nor the ear with all its hearing ; and weary, and blcuS, and exhausted 
by the very pursuit of pleasure, which still something in him compels 
him to pursue, the man is weary of his very life. How is this ? 
Mark the other source of human pain — ^remorse. How is it that when 
man obeys the strongest impulses of his naturo he does not, as we are 
told the other <|Tn>[i^1^ do, rise a step in the scale of creation, but 
sinks, and knows that he has sunk, back towards the brute ? What 
is the reason that, when a man has yielded to some one or other of his 
strongest appetites, there wakes up in him a feeling of shame, regret. 

Cktn^iiAmfy 9. SMmcA m Iielaiw» to Hvmtm Sujffning. 6^ 

lemonor? Wli^r is he kauntod. bjr the jBidbs' of an accnsmg oon- 
sdmee? Teat ikis Ibgr a case. TiJce^a caaeim Tvdnch 70a seewNKie 
sfaHNQgfir aaima]! brake deaUng with a weaker on^andi compeze that 
wi& the case o£ a. ertztong and savage man who has jnat stamped'out 
the life of ttie weaker creatiUB whom he once vowed to dtensh and 
piofaect. The atrong animal stands beside tiie woiker, the Yesj triumph 
and ccnpleiaQn) e£ the law of the mcrvivad 4if tis atronged. The hroaan 
laoe is weeded of its weaker demeiite hy Tiolence. Why is it tilat 
that deed of Yiolenee fills yoti with indignation^ and yon rebnke that 
majiy arid eharge him wi&hamnffhroluT^l^ '^ What law? The lAw 
of soeiety, whidi yoa have made for yonr oonvemence and protection 
agBinst my strength? What other law ? " "The law of your nature/' 
you tell him. ''My nature? Why, what I have done is natuxal, 
else I should not have done it. You appeal to my conscience. My 
conscience has proved itself feebler than my passion. In the name 
of science — matenalistio science, which knows nothing but force — I 
plead that this force in me \^ch you call conscience has no right to 
rule. It has prorved itself the weaker element in my nature by tiic 
very fact that it has given way. Why am I, at your biddmg, tt> 
mntOate one port of my being by placing it in subjection to another ? 
How can you daxe to tell me that I am not the new type of the future 
humaBity, stronger and fiercer t^an yourself, and, therefore, the more 
likely to survive ? I am in the minority now, and so lias ever been 
the type of the new creature in the exercise of its nascent strength. 
What is there in me by virtue of which you can say, ' You aare doing 
that which is xmnatural and wrong ? ' You might as well blame the 
balance because it inclines to the heaviest weight, or the chain because 
it snaps at its weakest point ? " That is the plea of the " natural 
man " who is obeying his nature. But, although that plea is scien- 
tifically unanswerable, there is that within him which is answering 
him all the whiLe^ fitfully and intermittently it may be, in pn^ortion 
to the strength of the instincts and passions to which he naturally 
gives way, but never, parhaps, entirely silenced. There is that within 
which will tell hint, weakly at some times, powerfully at others, that 
what he is doing is wrong, unnatural, deadly — ^that it is sin against 
God, which wiU sting him with the scorpions of remorse, and haunt 
him with the shame of memory — ^which will plead, and yet plead in 
vain, as some discrowned and dethroned monarch pleads in vain for 
legitimate nda against his revolted subjects. And the man will 


i8 Christianity v. Science in Relation to Human Suffering. 

feel and know this, and all the more because it is of no use, as he 
cannot bring one part of his nature into subjection to that which 
claims to rule the rest. He will say : — '' I am unhappy because of 
this very disturbance in my nature between the law which claims to 
be supreme, and which fails to prove its supremacy, and the appetites 
that are ever proving their right to rule by the fact that they dethrone 
my better nature, and actually Ao rule. ' 0, wretched man that I 
am ! Who will deliver me firom the law in my members, that has 
subdued the better law in my mind, and is bringing me into captivity 
to what I know to be the law of sin and death ? " 

Here, then, is the strange, exceptional misery of man ; and with 
this fact we con&ont the teachers of the new Grospel for humanity, 
the Gospel of materialism — the Grospel which deals with, and weighs, 
and measures, and calculates the forces of matter, and which tells us 
that these are all. We say to them: "Explain, if you can, the 
strange difPerence between this human automatic animal and all 
other animal automata with which you are acquainted. Tell us what 
is wrong with this machine, which should be the most perfect of all 
machines. Tell us why its movements are so incalculable, so erratic, 
80 violent at times, and so self-destructive. Can you put it to rights, 
if you cannot explain it ? Can you make it keep temperate time and 
measure, and do that work in the world which you believe, but which 
you have lio scientific reason for believing, it was meant to do ? If 
you cannot do this — ^and you have never yet attempted to do it — ^then 
stand aside for a moment while we bring before you what we believe 
to be the truth. Hear what we have to say — ^we believers in the 
supernatural, we obsolete theologians ; listen while we try to account 
for these facts, and while we tell you what we at least try to do with 
this machine." 

The Bible theory of man is this — ^that he is not his true self ; that 
he is not in his proper element; that he differs from all other 
creatures, not in fine and imperceptible degree, but in kind ; that it is 
not an automatic difference of structure, but a difference in this, that 
the God who made him, whether by an instant act of creation or by 
an infinitely protracted creative act of evolution, made him in His 
own image, and gave him that mystery of mysteries — a spiritual 
nature with a free and self-determining will ; — ^and that it is the nature 
of that spirit of man that only in communion with and obedience to 
the Spirit who made it can it find its true happiness — that the only 

Christianify v. Science in Relation to Human Suffering. 69 

place where it can be happy iB the Father's house. The Bible tells 11s 
more — ^viz., th^t it has been the cnise and the disorganisation of the 
nature of man that, in the exercise of this power of free-will, he has 
wandered away from his Father's house, and claimed the selfish and 
sohtaiy possession of the goods that the Father has lavished upon him 
It tells us that the origin of all human sorrow is this — ^that he has 
said, '' Give me the wealth of the imagination, the treasures of the 
affections, the strength of the intellect — all that makes me and 
glorifies me as a man — and let me carry them away into the far 
country of selfish possession and enjoyment without God" — ^that 
loan's wretchedness is the sublime discontent of the soul that was 
made to rest in God, and cannot in anything less than God. This is 
the Bible explanation of man's satiety and remorse. It tells him that 
which no anatomical analysis, no psychology, can prove to him — 
that the voice within that claims the sovereignty is the voice of the 
lightfnl Sovereign; that the voice of Conscience is nothing less than 
the echo of the voice of Grod ; and that it is because he \& living in 
an element unsuited to his nature that he is unhappy. It tells him 
more — that which Revelation alone can teU him — viz., that there is 
a remedy for his unhappiness. "Bise up, and go to your Fathar. 
The far country in which you are dwelling must ever be swept agaiK 
and again by periodic famine, as the immortal soul in you fails to 
find its sustenance there. The swine-husks of sensual pleasure were 
made for lower animals, not for your spirit. Come to thyself ; rise 
up and go to thy Father, and there find the rest, the peace, the 
harmony of thy being ; there become what thou wast made to be» 
the crown and perfection of the creation, because thou hast regained 
the lost image of the Perfect One." 

Now, brethren, we are not afraid to contrast these two theories. 
We unhesitatingly say that our theory includes all the facts, and 
gives at least a consistent account and hypothesis for them ; and that 
the other does not. 

But is tins only theory against theory — the dream of the scientist 
against the dream of the religionist ? Not so. Our religion is an 
historical religion. It bases itself upon One life in the past, and 
it is ever renewing and revealing itself in many lives ever since that 
One life was lived on earth. That life was the life of One who, all 
through His existence, so far as we can know it — and the story of it, 
if we accept it as true, reveals its innermost thoughts and workings — 

70 Christianity «. Science m Relaium to Human Suffering, 

was perfect It was b liie luistained by impuxity, imvezed and 
unharassed by sensoal or enlinqpakeiybecavBeit was pased in -aitiie 
obedience tz> the will of the leather. "Boa was a sool ttet nefrer knew 
the .hunger of the exilBd and lebelliaiis aon* Jmd this is not alL 
That perfect life cf obedieinDe--all tiie somow di which came only 
from wilbont — came only frooi ibe &ct that all around Him were not 
equally obedient with ihimseU — 4baJt l^ He can npematuratty give to 
us. He teUs us ao. "I tan. ooaae that ye might bacve " — not know- 
ledge of your condition, wldeh^any moiaiist may gm your— 9iot state- 
meoBitB of your natate, which .any philoao|iier may try io give yoiu — 
but '*life»^ new life, ''and that ye might have it> more abondaaitiiy.'* 
And what atbestataon does He give of His power to impart this snper- 
nahusally new .life ? He gnres the miracles of His own lovts— >not 
merely tihemaDBcIe of HisKmn ezisteBce, whioh might be a solitery 
and eKoeptknal esistsnce — but the mirades of healmg and restoring 
in the domain of .the natussL fie says: ^ You who ndgbt otherwise 
believe Uiat you. are the slaves of matorial law, and vainly fitmggle 
to £Bd0 youraelves fesm ihe oreMnosieiaBif tyranny >dF your nature, see 
whait I hove done in the iregian »f the natural, and leami to trast Me 
as, when men bring to Me those snSadng from physical disease, I heal 
them with a toncih. Look at JCe, those of you who are -vested wJth 
stoems in your souls, and see how with a woed I have stQled the 
stoBtts.of nature. LodE at Me, yau mho feel the utker helpIessttesB of 
your resiaiaiijee to ml, you who feel ms if you ware dead bodies, 
swabbed in the tenable habits that bind yoH, liie very swuddliiig- 
clothes of the grave, of ,Q{vnqpiian,^aBin; hmkat Me, as you see Hmt 
young onan aunded'Out to timgrs9« aonidtiiemanrDmgB^of hda mother 
— ^as mothers have mourned over young men dead in trespasses and 
sinsh-ijkkfik at Me as I sayi 'Young n^n, anae ! ' and as yon tisten to 
that iK)ise,aindknow that otisthe voiceithatrhas stilled the storm, and 
waked'the dead, torust in Me as I tell you I have powei to still the 
storm in your heart, and to heal the disease in your natmre, and to 
wake you from Ihe <gmve tof «in asid desBlh." — And we have this 
adcUhionalfect tto alfage, 1dHit(a31 along (the lustoiy of the (Divine 'society 
which. He came to ionnd we Tiaare JnahHnecs of this restoring, healing 
powfic; ltwK)uldl)e nujuertidwaaylliatiaillCihristians have been moral 
andiahbtte subdue tiieir >natm», nadt wndldibe luqnst toissy that all 
materndistsiha^BB been immsffalandiiam yielded to thebrnatnre. Btft 
we deaay i^EBEt all aios^ the a^as Htuae. Jam iiwitanfies of iBStoratoon 

Chrtshantfy v. Science in Relation toJSuman Suffering. 7 1 


that are sadden and, to all appeaianoe, supematoial We find that 
men lise up suddenly, and go to the house of their Father, and dedaie 
that they have received a strength and a blessing that they never 
knew before. All down the^ages — nixing clear and distinct, loud 
above all the cries of human^strif e^and sin and misery — ^there come to 
us the litany of the penitent and the joyful hymns of the reconciled. 
We hear and see — ^thank Grod thatVe do hear and see ! — even in the 
alleys and the garrets of our great cities, how drunkards mideaJy 
become sober, outcasts chaste, profl^tes pure, and even churls 
bountifdl, merciful, loving, and kind. And we see that this is attributed 
by each one and all to the fact that they have heard that Voice, have 
naen and gone to the Father, and have been restored. 

lien may mock at all this ; may tell us that '^ the Father's house " 
is all a dream, and that'' the Father "has no existence ; but the ''robe *' 
and the " ring " with which the returning prodigals are clothed and 
adorned are &cts which they cannot deny ; and it is not sdentific, 
it is not philosophic, to ignore such facts in the history of eighteen 
centories of human experience. 

We say, then, that the old Gospel theory of the fall, rBstoratkMi, 
and ddiverance of man is the theory that best accords with the facts* 
And if so, then for you, brethren, who are gathered Jiere on this 
day in which we celebrate the first ooming of Him who told 
this story to glad ears, and whose story has sounded again and 
again in the ears of sorrowful mankind ever since — especially for you, 
youth of this great University, who are gathered here in this home of 
scioice and of leaniing to receive the portion of goods that f alle& 
to each one of you — ^your share in the great inheritance of the agefr— 
the heirs of the past, the hopes of the future — for you this comes 
to-day as a true and Divine word : " Arise, and go to thy Father." 
Are there here those who know the reality of tiiat word ? — ^here, where 
once and again in all its long history of successful effort and of 
crowned endeavour there must have been, ever following these as 
their idmdows, the story of the wrecked and wasted life, of the sad 
remorse and despair over opportunities cast away, and over bqpes. 
that could never return ? If there be here one yotmg heart that has 
known what it is to say, " I will arise and go to my Father; the mere 
gratification of the intellect has not satisfied me; indulgence in 
sensual pleasure has 'd^;raded, and not elevated, my being ; I am 
wearied with satie^ ttid vexed wit^ remonie "—if any such are here 

72 The Life of Dr. Bushnell. 

they must have known this also, that in the hour when they went 
to the Father they regained strength ; that it was an hour of lecon- 
ciliation, an hour of glad and kindly reception. "Who that lias ever 
fought the battle, not merely with sin in the life, but with am 
in the memory — who that has ever struggled against a depraved 
imagination — who that hafl ever fought a young man's battle 
with sin in the past or the present, and then said, "In spite 
of all that can be said against it, I will try that old rwnedy ; I will 
arise and go to my Father ; no specious pleadings of the sceptical 
intellect shall keep me back " — I ask, have you not gained strengtli — 
have you not faced old memory — and have you not struggled ^inst the 
temptation to sin with a new life ? If you have done so, yon have 
had an experimental proof of the reality of the old faith, which is a 
more certain evidence than yon can gain from books on theolt^. 
You have tried the remedy, and He has redeemed your sonL And if 
there be one here who knows, even in the opening of his manhood, 
something of the sadness and weariness that comes from indulged 
desires, or 6'om penitent regret, and who is questioning in hia own 
mind, " Is there any truth in what teachers tell us of the fall and the 
reatoiatioD, of the disease and Uie remedy ? " — oh, young man, whose 
feet are passing along near the meeting-place of these two ways, the 
one leading to life and the other to death, try one step on the right 
■way. Tiy now on this day, and let it be the very advent to your 
soul of your Lord and Saviour, Try to work His work ; tiy to 
remember His teaching, and say, " I will arise and go to my Father, 
and will say unto Him, Father, I have sinned against heaven and 
before Thee.' " 

%\t $» of §r. gBsJntll.* 

Bffi majority of English students made their first acquaint- 
ance with Dr. Bushnell on the publication of his 
" Sermons for the New Life," and they at once felt in the 
volume the presence of an unwonted charm. The author 
was evidently a man of independent and even original 
mind, endowed with the intuition of a seer and the heroism of an. 

• " Life and Lettera of Horace BualmeU." London : S. D. Dickinson. 

The Life of Dr. BushnelL ^ 3 

apostle. He proved himself familiar alike with the ways of God and 
the needs of men, and his words glowed with the fervour which can 
only be gained by long and solitary communings with the Father of 
our spirits. The freshness, the raciness, the profound spirituality of 
these "Sermons for the New life'* would alone have given their 
author a high place among our theological writers, and have stamped 
bim as one of the most remarkable men of the age. Nor was there 
anything in them which contravened the ordinary beliefs of the 
Eyangelical Churches. They moved, indeed, on new lines, and 
occupied ground over which no other teacher had conducted us, but 
there was little in them suggestive of the preacher's heterodoxy, or 
calculated in any way to awaken suspicion. We have subsequently 
received from Dr. Bushnell several volumes of considerable worth — 
not one of which we could well spare ; but our early attachment 
remains unshaken, and we regard his volume on *' The New life " as 
his greatest and best work. 

Ix)ng before its appearance, however, he had exposed himself to 
the mistrust of his more orthodox brethren, and had undergone a 
severe and protracted trial for heresy. The controversy which, in 
England as well as in America, was afterwards provoked by his 
treatise on '' The Vicarious Sacrifice," was simply a renewal of the 
agitation which followed his University Discourses on the Atone- 
ment, the Divinity of Christ, and Dogma and Spirit The germ of 
all his latest speculations on this momentous theme may be found in 
these— his earliest — pubhcations. His theory of the Atonement was 
enlarged and completed. BushneU's mind was continually medita- 
ting upon it and eager to receive fresh light ; but, substantially, his 
news remained imchanged. The central element of his theory he 
never abandoned, though he subjected it to various modifications, and 
did something to bring it into more real and manifest harmony with 
the ordinary Evai^ehcal faith. Whatever may be our opinion of the 
validity and worth of his theory, we cannot be insensible to the fact 
that he was in every way a remarkable man, a man of clear vigorous 
intellect, of transparent sincerity of purpose and inflexible integrity — 
pure, generous, and courageous. His very endeavour to effect a 
reconciliation between the Gospel and the strange complex forms of 
niodem thought commands our respect; and now that we have 
Wore us these interesting "Memoirs," we see that the Tnan was 
in every way better than his books. So beautiful a biography as 

74 The Life cf Df. BushnelL 

this we liave not read for a long tim6. Apart from its peculiar Azneii* 
camBxas, for which of course we most be piepaied, it is in almost ereiy 
respect a model biography, and will take its place with the five or six 
best works of its dass which this generation has produced Its great 
merit is that it brings us into direct contact with the real life of tha 
man. It is edited, and fmr the most part written, by his eldest 
daughter, who both undetstood and appreciated, revered and loved, 
her father. She is a woman of kindred sold with him, "without 
whose Ufe she had not been"— as pure, as chivalrous, as devout; 
and while she has not lifted the veil from those sanctities of private 
and domestic life on which no stranger should look, she has enabled 
us clearly to see her father in the real greatness and simplicity of his 
character, as he appeared in his study, at his fireside, in the social 
circle, in the church, sad among his townsmen. As the result of this 
biography, the memoiy of Horace BushneU wiU be reverently and affec- 
tionately enshrined in the hearts of multitudes who never knew him.* 

It is not our purpose to present anything like a full outline of 
Bushnell's career, still less to enter into a detailed criticism of his 
doctrines. We wish rather to mention a few points which will show 
the kind of man he was. 

He was bom in Litchfield, Connecticut, in 1802, and traced his 
descent through s<»iie of the eadiest settlers of Saybrook and Guild- 
ford to the Huguenot refugees. His eariy home life was exceedingly 
beautiful, and he received through it that quiet and efiEective ^' Chris- 
tian nurture " of which he subsequently wrote so eloquently. His 
parents were both endowed with more tlian ordinary mental power, 
and had an inbcNcn gentleness and refinement which were of im- 
measurably greater value than the culture of the schools. In thdr 
home, religion was no occasional or unwelcome visitor, but a *^ con- 
stant atmosi^iere, a commanding but genial paeaence." To his 
mother — loving and unselfish, yet sagacious and prudent — he was 
especially indebted. Such a mother must have delighted in such a 
son. He has himself left 41s a picture of his early li£s, which we 
must do ourselves the pleasure of transcribing : — 

*^ The veligion of the houae wm oompoGate— ^that of the husband, in his gather 
Arminian type, leceived from his mother ; and that of the wife, in the Epfawopal, 

* We wkh to expieflB onr obligations to Mr. Dickinson for his beaatiftil edition 
oftibu/noUe^Liie." He has iisaed it at a |idce---Ave riiiUing»--^hick brings 
it mthm thewafch of all p\mnM. It Is a nsivel of chenjpoBBBs. 

Tke Life of Dr. Bushnell. 75 

ftum hoB ; and that of the Oalnniftb CoqgHgatioiud Church, in which they 
were now bolii menbeis, haTing early removed to tiua second piace of residence^ 
where they drop their Episcopal conaeetiony and take their opportunities as 
they find fliem under the venerable, just now departing father of President Day. 
In this way, l3ieir first child had it always for his satis&ction, as far as he 
pn^jerly ooold, that he was Episcopally regenerated. I remember how, return- 
ing home, afber Moond service, to his isather late dinner, my &tfaer would some- 
times let ihA irritatian of his hunger Inoae in harsher wor^ than were compli- 
mentaxy, on the tou^ pBede8tinatix>nism or the rather over-total depravity of the 
sermon ; whereupon he encountered always a begging-off look fipom the other end 
of the table, which, as I understood it, said, * Not, for the sake of the children.' 
It was not the Oslvinism that she tsared for ; but she wanted the preacher himself 
kept in respect for the benefit of the liEunily. In which, imquestionably, she had 
the nght erf it Mate than thsa^ it was her natnze that, lively ^d sharp as her 
eicitabilities were, she could never help acting in the line of discretion. She 
was, in fact, the only person I have known in the close intimacy of years who 
never did an inconsiderate, imprudent, or any way excessive thing that required 
to be afterwords mended. In this attribute of discretion she rose even to a kind 
of Bublinri^. I never knew her give advice that was not perfectly justified by 
lesoits. Her religionfi dutiee and^grafies were also cast in this mood — ^not sinking 
their fiavour in i^ but having it raised to an element of eupenor, almost Divine, 
perception. Thns praying earnestly for and with her children, she was discreet 
enough never to make it unpleasant to them by too great frequency. She was a 
good talker, and was often spoken of as the best Bible teaclier in the congregation ; 
but abe never fell into the mistake of trying to talk her children into religion. 
She spoke to them at fit times, but not nearfy as frequently as many mothers do 
that are fu less qualified. Whether it w»s meant or no^ there was no atmosphere 
of artificially pious consciousness in the liouse. And yet she was preaching all 
the time by her maternal sacrifices for us, scarcely to be noted without tears.'' 
(Pp. 28, 29.) 

Squally delightful is Dr. Biisbaell's pictuje of the training he zeoeived 
in the acihool and the chnreh^ taken fix)ni his addiess on " The Age of 
Homespim " (pp. 10 — 14). 

At the age of twenty^one he entered Yale College, but he did not 
dimog his collegiate coozse think of devoting liimself to the 
Chnstiaa miniistzy. The law was his intended goal After his 
gradoation, he was far a time .the iroiking editor of the New York 
Jcftumti of Oommaiet, then he became a tutor in his MfOA.Mti^, and 
it TTBs doling his tntarsfaip that there occurred a great revival, which 
proved for hdm the taxBoi^pQint of his Jife. He was intallectnally 
far ahead ef all his«UBi^ues — ^brillianivpoiftilar, and with prospects 
at the bar whddh most have fixed his ambition. Bntiw wasall at sea 
io respsofc to ills xeiigiflos beiidfB, panng tfaraqgh severe oonfliots^ 

76 The Life of Dr. Bushnell. 

and agitated by mental unrest. His colleagues were anxious and 
wondering about him, but afraid to approach him, when he himself 
broke the ice, and told his friend Durant that he " must get out of 
this woe/' His students, fondly attached to him, and hitherto 
unaffected by the revival, were invited to meet him^ to talk over 
their position and his own. The intellectual athlete humbled himself 
in the dust before the majesty and power of Christ. The result 
was overwhelming; "the class-room was a Bochim — a place of 
weeping." On one occasion, we are told, he went into the daily 
meeting of the tutors, " and, throwing himself with an air of abandon- 
ment into a seat, and thrusting both hands through his black, bushy 
hair, cried out desperately, yist half-laughingly, ' men, what shall I 
do with these arrant doubts I have been nursing for years ? . . . . 
I am glad I have a heart as well as a head .... and I mean to 
hold by my heart. I am glad a man can do it, when there is no other 
mooring, and so I answer my own question. What shall I do ? But 
that is all I can do yet.' " No wonder that his friends should feel 
that they had among them, in all the power of the new life, ** Paul, 
who was also called Saul," and that there was no such little child as 
he. Truly, a grand and heroic soul ! 

Bushnell's first and only pastorate was at Hartford. The North 
Congregational Church was, at the time of his probation, divided into 
two parties — ^the Old and the New Schools of Theology. The young 
minister's position was truly a delicate one. As he himself afterwards 
humorously described it, he was " daintily inserted between an acid 
and an alkali, having it for his task to keep them both apart, and to 
save himself from being bitten of the one or devoured of the other." 
So far as his own congregation was concerned, he accomplished his 
task with wonderful ease. Men of both parties trusted and loved 
him, and he proved himself well worthy of their esteem. Shortly 
after his settlement at Hartford he married Miss Apthorp of 
New Haven — a woman who was in every sense a helpmeet for him, 
and who, by her sympathy with him in his studies, and the quiet 
ministries of home, made lum a stronger and happier man. From 
almost the first years of his pastorate he was oppressed by ill-health. 
His life on this score was a more or less perpetual struggle, but few 
men have battled more bravely or won a grander conquest. His 
preaching soon became a recognised power in the neighbourhood. It 
had — ^we are told — ^ in those days a fieiy quality, an urgency and 

The Life of Dr. BushnelL 77 

wilfal force which, in his later style, is still felt in the more subdued 
glow of poetic imagery. There was a nervous insistence about his 
person, and a peculiar emphasising swing of his right arm from the 
shoulder, which no one who has ever heard him is likely to forget 
It seemed as if with this gesture he flung himself into his subject and 
would fain carry others along with him." Mr. Charles L. Brace thus 
refers to this period : — 

" Those were the eager and powerful days of the great preacher, when his kn- 
gnage had a pure and Saxon ring which it somewhat lost in later years, when 
emotions from the depths of a passionate nature bore him sometimes to the highest 
flights of eloquence, and wit and sarcasm flashed from his talk and speeches, and 
lie stood the most independent and muscular sermoniser in the American pulpit. 
He reached afterwards a higher plane of spiritual life and showed more balanced 
power and more consideration for the views of others, and was, no doubt, more 
bumble-minded and yet more elevated above the world. Still those early fiery 
dftjg of his left an indelible mark on 'all the youth who came under his influence. 
We felt the Divine beauty of Truth, and how sweet and easy it was to sacrifice all 
to her. We were withdrawn from the overpowering control of external formuloe 
and formal statements, and began to search for the realities as for hidden treasures. 
Our great teacher seemed to stand as a prophet, directing us to things seen and 
eternal ; and though, perhaps, he and his disciples at that time exaggerated the 
Tidue of the intellect, it was a healthful movement and always inspired with 
devout reverence and a deep sense of the personality of Christ as the Son of God. 
Truth, independence, humanity, under an overpowering faith in God and Christ 
were the principles stamped there into youthful minds by the preaching and the 
life of Dr. BushnelL" 

The delivery of the three University discourses, to which we have 
before alluded, and published under the title of " God in Christ," 
provoked a long and angry^ controversy, in which an effort was 
unsuccessfully made to censure '^and excommunicate Dr. Bushnell 
from the Association. That a controversy should arise was indeed 
inevitable. Bushnell*s views certainly departed from the current 
beliefs of the Church. His modes of statement were novel, and by 
many deemed dangerous, and in various ways undermined their 
conceptions of the Gospel. We do not £^ee with the action taken 
by many of his opponents. The brethren of " Fairfield West " seem 
to have been unduly sensitive and pertinacious; but in the main, 
their views of the Gospel being what they were, his opponents 
conducted themselves as honourable men. They and he were alike 
sincere in their beliefs, and faithful in upholding them ; and while on 
their side, even more than on his, some things were done which gave 

7 8 Tittf Life of Dr. Bnsknell. 

cauae for just regret^ tbere^ was ajbo diaplayed a.good deal <A ruMgaiB8» 
and geneiosily* The fiabseqneBt reoonailiatacm of Dn Bnshnell and 
Dr. Hswes (oiia of Ids chief oppo]ie]its)rieflecta tbe greatest credit 
on both. TSesr%t did Bnshsiell'ft charaet^ appear ia a finer ligiit than 
when he vohzntaxily and pendfltentiiy sooght to be reconciled to one 
who, as he belieTed, had miaondexstood and injnred him. The 
correspondence on this point (pp. 326 et seqq.) is admirable, and might 
be read with profit by all theological disputants. As we do not 
propose to enter farther into this question, let us remark how 
delightful it is to find that Bushnell was so quickly installed in the 
confidence of all parties alike. For yearn before his death he had 
gained universal este^ik and love. He gathered around him a depth 
of personal affection such as it is given to few men to excite. An 
association of ministers^ before which he read what he felt would be 
his last sermon, '' Our Belations with Christ in the Futuoe life," 
listened to him with awe and tenderness. Criticism and comment 
were alike disarmed. One intimate friend being appealed to, shook 
his head, and then, in compliance with Bushnell's own request, 
attempted to speak. " The Doctor tells us that this — ^is — ^his— last 
— sermon ! " He could, however, get no further, but gave way, and 
wept aloud. " And we all," adds Dr. E. P. Parker, " wept with him. 
It was like the parting of St. Paul with the Ephesian elders. Then 
we knew how we loved him, and what an unspeakable, irreparable 
loss his departure would be for us — that departure which was 
evidently nigh at hand." 

The key to Bushnell's system is, according to his biographer, to be 
found in his views of language. He held that language is necessarily 
inadequate to express thought — ^thatimder its literal meaning it hides 
a mystical or symbolic, and hence will mean one thing to one man 
and another to another, according to his subjective state. There is 
both truth and &!tw: here, and such a view, held in too absolute and 
unrestricted a form, could not fail to result in at least approaches 
to heresy. We believe that Bushnell directed attention to aspects 
of the Atonement which orthodox teachers were, perhaps, 
prone to overlook. The moral influence of Christ's death has 
been too often lost sight of, and we have not always remembered or 
even realised the fact that there is that in the work of our Lord 
which cannot be methodised and expressed in logical or scholastic 
formulaxies. That work is too wondexfol in itself, too fiar-reaching in 

The Life of Dr. BushnelL 79 

ito iMoIts, too faanflnen deBt in its idatioBB to «he Infinite «id 
Eternal, to be iUufltoUed by aay set of human analogHs, or by all 
aDab^giBS combined, Bushnell insisted on this fact in me direction, 
and feigot it in anoOier. We are thajakful to turn witJi him from 
dogmas about Christ to the living Christ Himself, and to enforce the 
nmque moral power of God in self-sacrifice ; but even this power 
would f or ua be lost, apart from the actually vicarious chaiactar of 
Cihiisfs sufferings, and the necessity for them created by our sins. 
We cannot discuss the matter, but any one who carefully reads the 
Doctor's elaborate treatise will see that he must have felt something 
of this himself, for, after insisting with much eloquence and force on 
the moral-power view of the Atonement, he admits that it is in itself 
inadequate to meet the necessities of the heart. When we try to 
approach God through the death of Christ, he says :— " Plainly there 
is a want here, and this want is met by giving a thought-form to the 
facts which is not in the facts themselves." " Without these forms 
of the altar, we should be utterly at a loss in making any use of the 
Christian facts that would set us in a condition of practical recon- 
ciliation with God. Christ is good, beautiful, wonderful; His 
disinterested love is a picture by itself ; His forgiving patience melts 
into my feeling ; His passion rends my heart. But what is He for ? 
And how shall He be made to me the salvation I want ? One word : 
He is my sacrifice — opens all to me ; and, beholding Him with all my 
sin upon Him, I count Him my offering ; I come to God by Him, and 
enter into the holiest by His blood." 

Much more might be quoted to the same effect, but this must 
sufiSce. Here, in fact, is the weak point in Bushnell's theory, and, 
though he never accepted ** the altar forms " of speech literally, he 
l)ecame increasingly aware, as his life advanced, that they were abso- 
lutely indispensable. On what ground they can be indispensable, 
d'partfrom their literal and objective truth, we cannot imagine. They 
are, we may be sure, more than symbols. 

No one can have carefully studied Bushnell's writings without 
seeing that there was in his nature a deep under-current of mysticism. 
His intuitive and imaginative powers were stronger than his ratiocina- 
tive. His highly poetic temperament rendered him unduly impatient 
of the processes of logic. His delight in pure creative thought led him 
somewhat to neglect the teachings of history. If he had come under 
the influence of a mind like Domei's — if, in other words, he had been 

8o " The Sacred Books of the East** 

more widely versed in the history of doctrines — ^he would certainly have 
been a sounder theologian and less widely separated from his brethren. 
Sut with all his limitations he was a man of heroic mould, and we 
are thankfdl for the work he so nobly accomplished. His influence 
hajs been a powerful factor in recent thought, and has told bene* 
ficially on the life of all our churches. Few men have in their 
humility, their sincerity and earnestness, their love to God and to 
man, displayed more of the mind of Christ. He was truly, as one 
of his friends described him, " a master in Israel," and the memorials 
of his life form a most precious legacy to the Christian Church. 


V^t 5wrjeir §00b jof % ^asi" 

OME years ago, when Babu Chunder Sen was in this 
country, we were present at a service held in the chapel 
in South Place, Finsbury, The discourse of this famed 

^;^&^' Indian reformer was in itself sufficiently remarkable, and 
^ was to so great a degree of a Christian character, that it 

was difficult to believe that the preacher was not a member of one or 
another of the orthodox faiths of Christendom. The introductory part 
of the service was conducted by the minister of the place, and was 
entirely devoid of any Christian sentiment whatever. We had hymns, 
anthems, and an invocation of the Deity ; and for " Scripture " were 
read some selected verses from the Psalms of David, a parable from the 
German of Krummacher, and a hymn from the Hindu Yedas, the last 
portion being regarded as being as sacred and as Divine as the first. 

This is but a single instance of a custom wliich hajs sprung up in 
certain quarters of treating the Christian Bible as having no specially 
sacred character, as a book of equal value with the sacred books of 
other religions, and as contaroing, it may be, some loftier discoveries 
of the Divine nature than can be found elsewhere, but as having no 
more Divine an origin than the Veda of the Hindu, the Avesta of the 
Parsi, or the Tripitaka of the Buddhist. 

We have been told that these sacred books of Eastern lands are 
fuU of primaeval wisdom ; that their authors were men of devout 
spirit, who had penetrated the arcaiui, of religious thought, and who 
taught the nations a pure and lofty Theism ; that they were rich in 
beautiful poetry, and gemmed with maxims of the most exalted 


The Sacred Books of the Easir 8 1 

morality. It was said to be evident tliat there was no need to believe 
that God had ever revealed Himself in any visible or direct form 
to man, for man by his own unaided thought had discovered His 
existence. All religions, therefore — the Christian religion among 
them — ^had only a human origin, and the early histories of Divine 
manifestation recorded in the Bible were worthy of no stronger 
belief than the myths and legends which form so great a part of the 
early faiths of mankind. So excellent, indeed, are these writings of 
the sages of India and of Persia said to be, that Christians have been 
reproved for speaking of their authors, and of those who practise the 
rites they taught, as heathens and pagans. Gross as may be the 
Polytheism of Eastern lands, and frightful as may be the orgies of 
idolatrous worship, these sacred Sources of the religions of Eastern 
nations are, nevertheless, worthy of profound respect, and " Chris- 
tianity itself is hut the perfect concentration and embodiment of 
eternal truth scattered in fragments through other systems — the perfect 
expression^ of all the religious cravings and aspirations of the human 
race since man was first created." 

While these books remained in their original manuscripts, or hidden 
in languages some of which awaited the discoveries of modern phil- 
ologists or decipherment by men skilled in Oriental learning, it was 
difficult to say how farjthese lofty claims were justified by the facts. 
It is true that in the early years of this century such eminent 
Orientalists as Sir William Jones, Professor Wilson, Mr. Hodgson, Mr. 
Colebroke, Anquetil Duperron, and others had given to the world 
translations of portions of these books which scarcely bore out the 
modem ideas respecting them. Indeed, in some instances, the 
researches of these scholars led them to an open expression of con- 
tempt for their assumed Divine origin, and to the rejection of some 
of them as monstrous forgeries or incredible tales. 

Since, however, the revival of Oriental learning in tlie last fifty 

years, and the growth of a materialistic philosophy wliich denies all 

revelation, these *' sacred writings " have been again brought forward 

as demonstrating that all the religions of the world, past and present, 

stand on a common platform, and are alike penetrated with the same 

l>ivine ideas. And it is intimated, if not clearly said, that the 

reUgion of Moses and Christ is indebted to these ancient faiths for 

everything pure, elevated, and spiritual that it may contain. 

It was, therefore, with great interest and raised expectations that 


82 " The Sacred Boaks of ike East." 

we leceiyed tilie announcement that Professor Max Miiller was about 
to publish the most important of the '' Sacred Books of the East/' 
translated by various Oriental scholars. The progress of scholarship 
and discovery has not only rendered such a task possible, but it may 
confidently be affirmed that an English reader will receive from the 
learned men engaged a true transcript of these ancient documents, 
such as the most thoroughly accomplished scholars can give. Nine 
volumes have already appeared, embracing books concerning the 
Hindu system, the religions of Buddha and Zoroaster, and the 
sacred works of China. 

It is not our intention in this brief paper to enter into any detail 
respecting these works, or to compare them with the documents of 
the Christian faith. We shall content ourselves with calling attention 
to the somewhat remarkable Preface contributed to the series by 
Professor Max Miiller. 

The Professor, in his opening sentences, at once warns his readers 
that, if they have cherished such ideas of the value of these writings 
as those indicated above, they will be disappointed. It is, he says, 
" high time to dispel such illusions " — ^for such they are. The bright 
sides of these religious systems have naturally attracted attention ; 
bat they have their dark sides, too, and these have scarcely received 
any notice at all. He feels it, therefore, to be his duty to caution the 
readers of these works against any high-raised expectations. Here 
.and there, it may be, soUtaiy fragments of pure gold will be dis- 
interred from a " heap of rubbish," but a sober estimate of the value 
of these writings forbids much fruit of any value being gathered 
from these decayed and dying or dead trees. " It is but natural," lie 
says, '' that scholars, in their joy at finding one or two fragrant fruits 
and flowers, should gladly forget the brambles and thorns that had to 
1)6 thrown aside in the course of their search.'' Expectations have 
been raised which cannot be fulfilled, and injury is done to the 
interests of truth and sound learning by attempting to hide the 
puerilities and follies which are the main characteristics of by far 
the larger part of the writings in question. 

It is interesting and curious to note the modest claim put forth by 
the Professor on behalf of the study of these so-called ''sacred 
books." The religions of antiquity, he teUs us, must be studied in a 
loving spirit. " lYue love does not ignore all faults and failings ; on 
the contrary, it scans them keenly, though only in order to be able 

•* The Sacred Books of the East: ' 83 

to understand, to explain, and thus to ezcnse them/^ In other words, 
vre must be a itftfe blind to their " faults and failings." It is true, men 
do severely criticise the sacred writings of CSiristianity, and micro- 
scopically examine every ''jot and tittle" of ancient manuscripts, to 
discover some flaw in their genuineness, or to destroy the teaching of 
an obnoxious text. But when we venture on tiie vast and thorny 
wildernesses of Vedas, Tripitakas, and Zend- A vestas, we must " tread 
softly, 'tis holy ground." Our eyes must open lovingly to "the first 
rays of human faith and human thought." We are unfit for the 
study of these systems of religion if our hearts are not ready to 
* quiver" with the first impulse of the light which here and there 
gleams from their pages. It is, it must be admitted, very trying and 
disappointing to be informed that, " if the whole truth must be told, 
however radiant the dawn of religious thought, it is not without its 
dark clouds, its chilling colds, its noxious vapours." The facts being 
so, it is no wonder that the Professor should confess that for many 
years the problem has been insoluble to him how, by the side of so 
much in these books that is "• fresh, natural, simple, b^utiAil and 
true " they should contain ^ so much that is not only unmeaning, 
artificial, and silly, but even hideous and repellent. This is a fact, 
and must be accounted for in some way." 

We cannot at the present moment follow the Professor in his 
attempt to solve this problem. He admits it to be a perplexing one, 
and he has failed to find a solution " entirely to his own satisfaction." 
We would, however, venture to suggest that the Professor has not 
soTight for it in the right direction. His philosophy is at fault. The 
Book which he and other learned men would treat as having little 
more, if any more, value than the " Sacred Books of the East," says 
somewhere that, when God had revealed Himself unto men, " they 
did not like to retain Him in their knowledge." Hence their 
departure from His ways, and the unrighteousness, the vices, the 
follies, the frauds, and falsehoods which these so-called "sacred 
books" contain. If here and there we can discover in them traces 
of a pninitive faith that was holy, pure, and Divine in its 
origin and character, no less surely do they show us how human 
fraud and ignorance rejected the tiruth, and how men fell into 
degrading follies and vile idolatries. The "science of religion" 
wanders ^tifw ^T ig the thickets and thorny mazes of fiedse religions in the 
vain hope of finding^ a religion without a revelation^, and a worship 
which shall be devoid of any direct contact with the Eternal Ona 


84 Devotional Reflections. 

Valuable, then, as these volumes may be as historical records of 
the faiths to which they refer, the Christian may hail their publication 
as a conclusive argument against their religious utility. It is now 
certain that they do not possess any value in leading mankind to 
the true knowledge of their Maker. The best that can be said of 
them is well expressed in the following extract from an article 
on Zoroaster in the January number of the Nineteenth Century, 
by Professor Monier Williams, and which is equally applicable to 
all the other religious writings' of the East : — 

" The fact is that the Zoroastrian Bible is a simple reflection of 
the natural workings, counter-workings, and inter-workings of the 
human mind in its earnest strivings after truth, in its eager gropings 
after more light, in its strange hallucinations, childish vagaries, 
foolish conceits, and unaccountable inconsistencies. Here and there 
lofty conceptions of the Deity, deep philosophical thoughts, and 
a pure morality, are discoverable in the Avesta, like green spots in 
a desert ; but they are more than neutralised by the silly puerilities 
and degrading, superstitious ideas which crop up as plentifully in 
its pages as thorns and thistles in a wilderness of sand. Even tlie 
most tolerant and impartial student of Zoroastrianism must admit 
that the religious cravings of humanity can be no more satisfied witli 
such food than a starving man can be kept alive by a few grains of 
good wheat in a cart-load of husks." 

But " WE KNOW that the Son of God is come, and hath given us 
an understanding, that we may know Him that is true ; and we are in 
Him that is true, in His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God 
AND Eternal Life." E. B. Underbill, LL.D. 

By the Late Bev. CLESiENT Bailhache. 

Genesis iv. 7. — How merciful this teachlDg thus early in the world's 
night of sin ! And how powerful now ! To *' do well " is to master sin ; 
to " dp ill " is to be mastered by sin. And so we ohoose our master. 

Genesis zziii 4. — A grave ! The first possession of Abiaham in the land 
of promise ! And is it not so that to the Christian death is the token of 
larger hope 1 

* The reader is referred to the volome of Sermons by Mr. Bailhache, entitled, 
*< Work too Fair to Die."— Introduction^ p. xiii. EUiot Stock. 

DevoHonal Reflections. 85 

GeneHi xziv. 50. — ^TroBt in ProTidenoe hefcrekand does not always oany 
the recognition of ProTidenoe after the event. This is inoonsistenoy 
and Bin. 

QtnuU xxriii. 17. — Snrely every place is the honse of God and the 
gate of heaven. Where He is felt, trusted^ and loved is heaven. 
" Dreadful/' indeed, yet immensely consoling and helpful. 

GtneeU zxix. 20. — ^Blessed prerogative of love, both human and Divine ! 
It takes away all drudgery from toil, and sanctifies and ennobles patient 

Genaii xlL 52. — And is not ''the land of our affliction " a fruitful land 
for us alii I think I can bear my testimony to that. 

GenetU xlv. 28. — ^The Lord's people suffer long for their sins; but 
forgiTeneas comes in the end with touching emphasis. 

GtnaU xlvii. 9. — Life a pilgrimage. Hence its discomfort and sorrow. 
Joomeying yields not the comforts of home; but the pilgrimage Uadi 

GtMni xlviL 29. — ^How ancient and how universal is this instinct ! It 
is a last sign of love for those who have gone before ; but is it not even 
more Uian this — an instinct of re-union by-and-by 1 

Exodui i. 12. — No affliction inflicted by man can really hurt those whom 
God determines to bless. 

Exodui iL 24. — And surely, with all God's blessings, this is a groaning 
vorld ; but how sad would be the groaning if He did not hear ! 

Exodus iii. 2. — This is the gospel of the sufifering soul and the sufferiog 
Church. Affliction bums but does not destroy. 

Exodus viii. 8. — Ob, how much obedience, even in Christians, springs 
from trouble rather than from loyalty and love. 

Exodus xiv. 15. — Prayer should lead to confidence, and confidence to 
bold and trustful action. Prayer that does not result in spiritual strength 
has misaed its mark. 

Exodus xix. 12. — Sinai the Mount of Law. No one can touch that and 
live. Calvary, the Mount of Grace, with hope for the worst 

Exodus XX. 3. — This is the initial lesson, not only of religion, but of all 
trae life. God supreme ; then all falls into true order. 

Exodus xxiii. 3. — There must be impartiality in dealing with all classes 
of men. It is as wrong to shelter the poor in their misdeeds as to toady 
to the rich in their pride. 

Exodus xxiii. 19. — ^How strangely even Christians reverse this order! 
Eirsi for themselves, and how much ! Then for God, and how little ! 

Exodus xxiv. 18. — ^Whatever may be the true interpretation of this 
grand incident, at least the moral lesson is clear. Communion with God 

86 Devotional Reflections^ 

— privatey intimate, and not huxxied — ib the trae preparation for all godly 

Exodus zxviii. 36. — '' Holiness to the Lord " — abeolute ministerial con- 
secration. Without thisi the ministry can be nothing bnt a burden and 
a temptation to selfishness. 

Exodus xzxiii. 14. — The presence of God is rest. To know that He 
leves mCi and is constantly near me— what other idea of rest can I need 1 

Exodus zzxiy. 30. — k conspicuous holiness is a terror to unspuitual 


Exodus zxxiiL 23. — Thank God for the vision of Himself in Jesus 
Christ ! He becomes more glorious to our accustomed eyes with eyery 
hour's experience of Him. 

Lmticus X. 9. — All holy work demands the fullest self-possession. No 
excitement can be allowed but that of a deyout enthusiasm. 

Leviticus xix. 16. — Tale-bearing — what a common sin ! — yery attractiye, 
but very mischieyous. The best are liable to it, and to be hurt by it. The 
Lord help me to keep this law ! 

Numbers ix. 17. — Does not this cloud remind us of circumstances in life 
(I haye known such and know them now) when all we can do is quietly to 
wait for the maaifestation of the Lord's will 1 Such are times, not for 
anxiety, but for trust. 

Numbers ix. 22. — The times of quiet waiting are sometimes long ; but 
even so they are calculated to strengthen faith, the best thing after alL 

Numbers x. 36. — How blessed a token is this resting doud, eyen of the 
presence of God — the secret place of the Most High ! 

Numbers zi. 2. — Two lessons here. Sin must haye its consequences; 
prayer will haye its answer. It cannot be true that ^ect is ineyitable to 
cause — so, at least, as to preyent the inteiposition of a gracious God. Eyen 
in human law mercy has its prerogatiye. 

Numbers xi. 15. — We cannot but sympathise with the mighty sorrow of 
Moses. Yet there is something better than his despair, the courage that 
will face the worst, and not hide its head from calamity. 

Numbers xi. 29. — ^A true godliness receiyes its own gifts with humility, 
for they are God's, and enyies not the gifts of others, since God's gloiy is 
the only gain. 

Numbers xx. 12. — ^The glory of the Lord is often a glory of judgment, 
always a glory of righteousness. No one will now complain of Diyine 
injustice in keeping these people out of Canaan. Hardly the people to 
transplant into a new and difficult soil. 

(To he continued,) 



Th£Collaf9b of ScmmFic Athbism. 

By J. M. Winn, M.D., M.R.aS. 

London : David Bogae. Pp. 36. 

Ths interesting pamphlet, one of 
%reial by the same author, on the 
doetrinea propoimded by Professois 
Hoxley and Tyndall, and by Mr. Dar- 
win and others, ia a very able reply to 
some of the principal aiguments and 
theories of scientific sceptics. Dr. Winn 
is no tyro in this matter. He has 
given prolonged and anxious con- 
sideration to it; and his professional 
sUUus and acknowledged ability, spe- 
lially in relation to mind, its functions 
and disorders, entide his statements 
to respectful consideration* We could 
ha?e wished that he had allowed him- 
^If ampler space for the discussion of 
the /ads which he adduces (for he is 
thoroughly well-informed on the subject 
of which he treats), since the general 
nader, whose information is necessarily 
limited, would be greatly assisted by 
an extended iUuBtcation of the argu- 
noents to a clearer apprehension of 
their validity and force. Dr. Winn, 
moreorer, is a firm and devout belieyer 
in Divine revelation. 

There are certain axioms about which 
feasonable people have no doubt — as, 
for example, that there can be no laws 
withont a law-giver, and no effect with- 
out a cause. Now, all scientific atheists 
admit that the universe is regulated by 
laws, but, by a strange perversion of 
leasoning, they ignore a Law-giver. 
They also deny a superintending Provi- 
denee. In ir^^^int^JTiiTig this latter 
opinion they are perfectly consistent, 
dince, as they would have it, laws once 

put in fozce can go on doing their wofk 
by themselves. But what becomes of 
the power which first called them 
forth? Does that cease to act at the 
moment they begin to operate? Self- 
originated and self-acting law appears 
to us both an absurdity and a con- 

The universe is often spoken of as a 
vast machine whose wheels revolve 
with the utmost precision. Is it in- 
credible that, if any engine of human 
construction requires constant and care- 
ful supervision, this world and all 
other worlds, whose movements are so 
vast and yet so regular, are governed 
"by a Being of infinite inteUigence 
and power " ? " We would be the last," 
says Dr. Winn, "to lindt the power of 
the Creator; and it is quite con- 
ceivable, as has been often suggested, 
that the machinery of the universe was 
created in such a manner that it could 
go on without further help. It is an 
authenticated fact* that there is a con- 
stant dissipation of energy from the 
sun ; that its heat is constantly passing 
away into space, and no compensation 
has yet been discovered. Who can 
restore this lost energy save He who 
first called it forth ? But the Positivists 
believe the so-called physical energies 
now in operation on the earth are all- 
sufficient, and do not need a constant 
renewal, and that there is no Almighty 
Force above them all. But surely 
faith in an eternal omnipotent power 
is more consonant with the common- 
sense of mankind than the atheistical 

• See Mr. Joatioe Ghrove'i addrcii bafurs 
the meetiDg of the Britiah Aiiodation in 




doctrine that the laws and physical 
forces of the universe are eternal and 
unalterable " (p. 7). 

The veiy limited space at our com- 
mand precludes more than an enumera- 
tion of the topics discussed by Dr. 
Winn — such as the Omnipotence of 
Atoms and Physical Forces, Bathy- 
bius, Spontaneous Generation, Evo- 
lution, Antiquity of Man, Physio- 
logical Psychology, which last topic 
especially is handled in a masterly 
manner, being one which has largely 
engaged his attention through his 
professional life. The following extract 
will show how he deals with this 
matter: — 

"The phenomena of insanity have 
been referred to on insufficient grounds 
by materialistic physiologists in proof 
of their theory. . . . That bodily 
disorders will affect the mind is un- 
questioned, but the converse is equally 
true that mental causes will produce 
derangement of the bodily organs ; and 
the physiological psychologists are 
asked to explain how it hapj>ens that 
in many cases of acute mania, ending 
rapidly in death, a poaUmortem exami- 
nation cannot detect any change in the 
substance of the brain " (p. 32). 

Many instances have been known of 
persons suffering from incurable brain 
disease exhibiting singular intelligence 
and accomplishments notwithstanding, 
and becoming perfectly rational during 
the last moments of their life. Dr. 
Winn cites a case in confirmation of 
this fact, which came under his own 
notice, of an old lady who had passed 
the greater part of her life in an 
asylum, and who had never been one 
moment coherent, speaking, just before 
her death, most sensibly. The brain is 
one of the most fragile portions of the 
body, and one of the first to decom- 

pose after death. It is subject to the 
same law of renewal which generally 
obtains in the soft tissues of the bodv. 
If this be so, how is it possible, as 
Materialists maintain, ** that the images 
or ideas impressed byl any merely 
physical process on the cells of the 
brain could be vividly recalled after a 
long period of time, when the matter 
of the very cells which are supposed 
to have received them had been re- 
placed by new matter " ? - 

The strange phraseology adopted by 
these Materialistic writers is justly 
ridiculed by our author. Thus he asks 
whether the title of "the Apostle of 
the Understanding," given by Professor 
Tyndall to Mr. Herbert Spencer, is 
justified because he defines life " as a 
continuous adjustment of internal re- 
lations to external relations," or when 
he informs us that "evolution is a change 
from indefinite incoherent homogeneity 
to a definite coherent heterogeneity 
through continuous differentiations and 
integrations." The great masters of 
science have been distinguished for 
simplicity of style and clearness of 
expression. But the sentence just 
quoted is, to our apprehension, utter 
nonsense. In fact these gentlemen are 
fS&st corrupting the English language 
in their efforts to make their theories 
intelligible. "They call poetic emo- 
tion the thrill of a ganglion ; thought, 
cerebration ; life, molecular force ; 
creation, evolution ; crime, a cerebral 
disease ; the Deity, a primordial 
germ I " We shall soon need a glossary 
of these new terms which are so rapidly 

Amidst all the confusion, doubt^ 
and irreligion produced by the daring 
speculations which are so constantly 
and unblushingly paraded before the 
public, it is a comfort to see men ol 



the greatest eminence in the varied 
walks of science, and particularly some 
of the highest repute in the medical 
profession, calmly and patiently ex- 
amming them ; testing them in a 
pMloBophic spirit, and showing how 
untnithfal they are in the face of the array of indisputable facts 
which they have, from time to 
time, brought forth. These facts 
clearly prove that physical force 
cannot account for life ; that sponta- 
neous generation cannot explain the 
origin of bioplasm ; that evolution is not 
the First Cause ; that physiological 
l)3Tchology has not solved the mystery 
of Mind ; and that our first parents 
were not ignoble savages. We think Dr. 
Winn has taken up a position from 
which he will not be soon dislodged — 
"that, when tested by the inexorable 
logic of facts, the pseudo-philosophy of 
scientific atheism ignominiously col- 

We would, therefore, earnestly advise 
oar readers, who feel interested in these 
'iuestions, and especially our thoughtful 
young people who may have been dis- 
turbed by them, to obtain — ^which they 
can do at a very small cost — ^this able 
pamphlet, and when they have got it to 
study it thoroughly. Its wide circula- 
tion would be an incalculable benefit to 
the cause of Truth and Righteousness. 

The CiiifBRiDOE Bible for Schools : 

The First Book of Samuel, with 

Maps, Notes, and Introduction. By 

the Bev. A. E. Kirkpatrick, M.A. 

London : Cambridge Warehouse, 17, 

Paternoster Row. 1880. 

Thi previously published volumes of 

the Cambridge Bible for Schools have 

teen mainly on the New Testament. 

Now we may look for a series on the 

Old. Mr. Kirkpatrick has edited the 

first book of Samuel in a thoroughly 
efficient manner. He has a competent 
acquaintance with the Hebrew language, 
and with the researches of Hebrew 
scholars. Hii '' Introduction " dis- 
cusses in a terse, succinct style, aU 
questions relating to the authorship and 
canonocity of the book, the state of the 
text, the chronology, the mission of 
Samuel, and the prophetic order. The 
notes compress into brief space the 
results of lengthened investigations. 
The divergencies between the Hebrew 
text and the Septuagint are carefully 
marked ; the criticism is sound and 
judicious ; the doctrinal explanations 
are thoroughly evangelical ; while the 
purely historical sections are illustrated 
with graphic picturesqueness. Advant- 
age has been taken of the labours of 
Ewald, Stanley, and Eitto ; and in 
relation to geographical details the 
invaluable work of Lieutenant Conder, 
of the Palestine Exploration Fund, has 
been constantly consulted. Mr. Kirk- 
patrick has also enriched his notes with 
illustrations from our great secular 
writers, and thus added to their value. 
We have received his small volume 
with sincere thankfulness. 

The New Testament Commentary 
FOR English Readers. Edited by 
C. J. Ellioott, D.D. Part IX. The 
Life of Christ. By Frederic W. 
Farrar, D.D. Part XI. London ; 
Cassell, Petter, & Qalpin. 
It is needless to do more than note the 
progress of these important re-issues. 
"The New Testament Commentary" 
has advanced as far as the first chapter of 
Luke. At this stage it will be specially 
welcome to many of our readers, as the 
afternoon subjects in the " International 
Lessons " lot Sunday-schools, from Janu- 
ary to June, are taJcen from the third 



goflpeL The aid of an expofiitor bo 
scholarly, candid, and judicious as Pro- 
fessor Plumptre will be invaloable. He 
is subtle and ingenious without being 
fanciful, original but never capricious, 
ready to face every difficulty and to 
attempt its solution. A wiser, more 
helpful interpreter of Scripture we do 
not know. 

Canon Farrar's ^ Life of Christ " more 
than maintains its popularity. 

Critical and Ezeostigal Handbook 


AND Philemon. By Heinrich W. 
Meyer, Th.D., &c. Translated by 
Rev. Maurice J. Evans, B.A. 
Critical and Exeqbtical Handbook 
TO THE Epistles op St. Paul to 
THE Thessalonians. By Dr. Gott- 
lieb Liinemann. Translated by Rev. 
Paton J. Gloag, D.D. Edinburgh: 
T. & T. Clark, 38, Geoige Street 
The "Handbook to the Epistles to the 
Ephesians and Philemon " is the last of 
Meyer's own contributions to the mag- 
num opvA of his life. His Commentary 
is — within its prescribed limits — un- 
rivalled. No Biblical scholar has done 
so much as he to set before us the 
exact meaning of the sacred text apart 
from all critical and dogmatical pre- 
possessions. His philological accuracy, 
his exegetical tact, his profound intui- 
tion, allied as they are with stem loyalty 
to the truth, have placed his volumes 
in the very foremost rank, and it will 
be loDg before they are equalled by the 
productions of a later day. They form 
'^ a monument of gigantic industry and 
immense erudition," and that one man 
should have been able to accomplish so 
much, and to accomplish it so well, is, 
to our thinking, marvellous. 

On purely doctrinal points, we often 

differ from Meyer, but even in thia 
respect he affords us more help than 
the majority of more orthodox com- 
mentaton. Nowhere does he allow 
his interpretation to be biassed by pre- 
conceived views. He is too thoroughly 
and too soundly in earnest to be swayed 
by prejudice. Here he vindicates the 
Pauline authorship of the Epistle to 
the Ephesians in the face of all objec- 
tions based upon such grounds as that 
it abounds in passages which are simply 
repetitions or expansions of passages 
in other epistles ; that it is not in 
Paul's literary style ; that it contains 
no such personal allusions as we might 
expect, &c. He further vindicates the 
genuineness of the words ^r *£^^(ry 
against those who contend that the 
epistle was an encyclical or circular- 
letter addressed to all the churches of 
the district Meyer's dissertation on 
this point is masterly and complete, 
although on a related matter he is, we 
think, less successful He has, in our 
opinion, failed to prove that the 
epistle was written from Cecsarea. 
Meyer's sympathies must have led him 
to look favourably on the doctrine of 
universal restoration. But he shows 
plainly that it finds no support in 
Eph. L 10, and io, in his view, opposed 
to the general type of Scripture doc- 
trine. Meyer never accepts a view 
because it is fashionable or congenial. 
His one aim is to know the mind of 
the Spirit, and, though he is not uni- 
formly successful, there is^ no other 
critic who has laid us under weightier 

Dr. LQnemann, who writes on the 
Thessalonians, was regarded by Meyer 
himself as an able and worthy co- 
adjutor. His notes axe of great value. 
Dean Alfozd followed largely in his 
track, and Bishop EUicott, while feeling 



his infeiiorily to Meyer, speaks of him 
as a commentator of a very high order, 
whose ex^esis is sound and convincing. 
English students can require no other 

As the remaining volumes in the 
Meyer series are not the work of the 
great exegete himself, Dr. Dickson will 
no loDger continue his editorial super- 
vision. We cannot allow him to retire 
from his task without expressing our 
liigh appreciation of the manner in 
which that task has been fulfiUed. He 
has heen assisted by an able body of 
tianslatoTs, but his revision of the whole 
work has been minute and painstaking, 
and has secured a uniformity of ren- 
dering and a d^irea of technical accu- 
ncy which would otherwise have been 
impossible. He has corrected many 
printer's errors which Meyer himself 
<iid not discover, and has, in fact, made 
the English translation fully as valuable 
in every sense as the German original. 
Work such as his cannot be popularly 
appreciated, but no Biblical scholar can 
he insensible to its worth. 

A History op Christian Doctrines. 
By the late Dr. E. R Hagenbach. 

Vol. n. 
A System op Christian Doctrine. 
By Dr. J. A. Dorner. VoL I. Trans- 
lated by Alfred Carr, B.A. Edin- 
hui^: T. & T. Clark, 38, George 
Thxsi two volumes form the second 
issue of " The Foreign Theological 
Library " for 1880. Hagenbach's work 
we have previously characterised, and 
must here be content simply to remark 
that it takes us over ground of great 
moment (from a.t). 254 — 1720), and 
discusses each separate point with accu- 
mcyand candour. Hagenbach's outline 
is somewhat sketchy, but his informa- 

tion and illustrative quotations are 
particularly falL The work is intended 
as a text-book, or a book of reference 
for scholars, and cannot, &om its very 
nature, become so popular as the 
author's " History ©f the Church ; " but 
we should have been glad if something 
more could have been done to popularise 
it. Could not the Greek and Latin 
quotations have had appended to them 
a translation for the benefit of English 
readers? The influence of the book 
might in this way have been greatly 

Domer's " System of Christian Doc- 
trine" is likely to prove, when com- 
pleted, his most masterly and profound 
work. It is at once a history and a 
iy$ter\ of theology. Dorner writes as 
one of a long line of tliinkers on the 
greatest problems which can claim our 
attention. He is minutely conversant 
with the labours of all his predecessors, 
and presents in new forms all in them 
that he deems of worth. The germs of 
truth contained in the conflicting 
theories of ancient and modern times 
are carefully preserved, and light is 
eagerly welcomed from whatever quarter 
it may come. The work will, of course, 
cover the whole ground of theology. 
In this first volume we have at the 
outset an elaborate dissertation on ** Pi^<- 
teology," or a doctrine of faith — faith 
being that by means of which a Chris- 
tian experience is gained, and which 
must precede scientific apprehension 
and verification. Dorner is a disciple 
of Schleiermacher, and seeks to rear 
his whole superstructure — grand, mas- 
sive, and conmianding — on the basis of 
Christian consciousness. We are not 
sure that the foundation will bear all 
that is built upon it^ or that theologians 
of this school do not attempt to prove 
too much by "the necessities of 



thought," &c. Here, for instance, 
Dorner endeavoara by a sheer process 
of reasoning to prove the existence of 
just such a Deity as the Christian 
worships. '' From the nature of thought 
in itself, the existence of an Absolute 
Being is first deduced, and at the 
same time of an Absolute Being 
that is one, sole, simple, and infinite. 
By means of the category of causation 
this Absolute Being is then shown to 
be at once Originator and Originated, 
the Origin of its own Being and the 
Being Originated — or, in other words. 
Absolute Life." This Absolute Being 
displays design, harmony, and beauty, 
and is thus the absolutely hannonioui 
Life, from whence it is afterwards in- 
ferred that this Absolute Being is 
absolute Justice and absolute Good ; is 
a Spirit, a Person ; and, finally, abso- 
lute Intelligence and Wisdom. That 
Dorner's argumentation will be uni- 
rersally convincing it would be too 
much to affirm ; but it is the most im- 
portant contribution to the theistic 
controversy we have met with for a 
^ng time, and to the theologians of 
every class will be a mine of precious 

Mr. Cave must have had a task of 
enormous difficulty in translating an 
author whose style is so involved, so 
uncouth, and so baffling as Dorner's. 
What can be said of a writer who 
frames such a word as der-aussen-aich' 
oder-iji'einem'andem'Beiny and who pens 
a sentence which, if literally translated, 
would be " By means of His Inseity 
the Extraseity of Gk>d coalesces with 
His Aseity"? We have not seen the 
German edition of the work ; but we 
are quite sure that the English transla- 
tion has not only faithfully reproduced 
the author's thought, but has presented 
it, as a competent translator would be 

bound to do, in a more intelligible and 
attractive form. Great thanks are due 
to Mr. Cave for the pains and the skill 
he has so conscientiously expended on 
this magnificent work. 

The Church. EUiot Stock. 
Wk heartily welcome this first number 
of a new series of our good contemporary, 
now thirty-seven years old. It is again 
enlaiged, and is improved in its appear- 
ance. It contains several specially 
excellent papers, among which we may 
note the first of a series of " Pictures 
from the Church of the Apocalypse," 
bearing the title " Foundation Stones " 
(Rev. xxi. 19), by the Rev. J. Q. 
Oreenhough, M.A., and the first of 
another series on " Our Mission Field, ' 
by the Rev. J. B. Myers. We have 
also the first chapter of what we suppoee 
is intended to be a story of ministerial 
home life, beautifully and tenderly 
written by Miss M. A. Paull. The 
Rev. W. Burton contributes an able and 
telling discourse on " What might have 
been — a few words about the past in 
beginning a New Year," founded on 
Psalm cxxiv. 1. "Sanding the Axles" 
administers a well-merited rebuke to 
those in our churches (and there are not 
a few of them) who ''show no great 
ability to plan or execute anything of 
importance," but who " get in the way 
of others," and '' hinder, find fault, pre- 
vent, and sow jealousy, dissension, and 
suspicion as invisibly and as efifectually 
as a boy can sand the journals of a 
machine." The story of " Carl 
Springel " is that of " a poor, lame 
German boy," who, " to save many 
human beings from an awful death, 
walked straight into the face of certain 
death himself, and met it like a hero." 
The programme of " The Church " for 
the year is a very promising one. 



Thb Svobd ahd TaowsLy December. 
With this nmnber ends the editorial 
work of our indefatigablo and deyoted 
biotiier Mr. Spnigeon for another year. 
Whetiier the end is better than the 
b^linning we will not say ; it is 
enough to say that the part before ns 
contains the usual quantity of racy 
writing, every line of which is saturated 
with the spirit of Christian faith and 
activity, for which our brother, notwith- 
standing his severe physical afflictions, 
is ao justly remarkable. The contents 
are veiy varied, and the infonnation 
respecting the Tabernacle and college 
work is as copious as usual. Mr. 
Sporgeon supplies a characteristic 
pre£u» to the now completed volume of 

The Gbnsral Baptist Magazine. 

January, 1881. 
This Magazine, under the able editor- 
ship of Mr. Clifford, has a place of its 
own, and has for a good many years 
displayed a remarkable vigour which 
shows no sign, at present, of bein^ on 
the wane. Professor Goadby has lucidly 
expounded '* General Baptist Prin- 
ciples." The Rev. W. H. Tetley writes 
well on "Ministerial Friendships," 
whilst the Rev. J. Maden, president of 
the " Association," contributes a brief, 
but thoughtful and stimulating "New 
Year's Pastoral" Dr. Henry Morley 
on « The Literature of To-day, with a 
Gneas at that of To-morrow," will also 
be read with interest and profit. 

Thb Baptist Visitor. Baptist Tract 

Society, Castle Street. 
This is a new venture, and we hope it 
will be a successful one. It is intended 
to answer several objects. It is a 
denominational periodical, and may be 
(-.Tpected to do good denominational 

service. It is so arranged as to be 
capable of easy appropriation by local 
Baptist churches and congregations — 
space being allowed for a local title and 
local information. Moreover, it is every 
way fitted for gratuitous distribution in 
the several localities amongst persons 
who do not attend a place of worship. 
Such a "visitor" is wanted. Church 
folk have their Parish Jliagazine, and 
by means of it disseminate a great deal 
of false and pernicious teaching. The 
poison should not be allowed to work 
without its antidote. The editor of 
this new publication has secured a 
capital staff of contributors, and the 
first number is every way satisfactory. 

The National Temperance Mirror. 

No. 1. January, 1881. One Penny. 

National Temperance Publication 

Depot, 337, Strand. 
A NEW Temperance Magazine, and 
likely to be popular, and to do good 
work in its own line. It has a capital 
wood-cut of " Maples in the Alps," two 
or three stories, one of them being by 
Mrs. Reaney, entitled " Repenting at 
Leisure," written in the simple, but 
telling, style for which she is well 
known ; an article by Sir Henry 
Thompson on "Food and Feeding," 
and an address by Dr. Richardson on 
"Rowing and Resting." The number 
closes with a hearty song by Dr. R. 
Maguire, "The Boys and Girls of 
England," set to what we do not 
hesitate to call glorious masic by Dr. 

The Child's Life of Christ. With 
Original Illustrations. Part III. 
Cassell, Petter, Galpin, & Co. 
We have not seen the second part of 
this admirable publication, but the 
third, now before us, merits the high 



commendation we gave to the first 
We must, however, take exception to 
the teaching conveyed in the following 
extract : — 


Thii onemany of oironniciymi wai 
■nppoied to aignify the raumnoing or 
giving np of the fleeh and of the world, 
and the ohild at the eame time received 
hie name. 

"When we are baptind and raoelve 
our namM^ we alio renouioe or give np 
the fleeh aiid the woild. 

**The qneation ia aaked of ovr god- 
f athen and godoMyUMn whether they, 
in the name of the baby who ii 
about to be baptiaed, rMunmoe 'all 
oovetona deairaa of the world, and the 
oamal deairea of the fleeh,' and the 
aaawer that onr godfathera and gad* 
mothera make ia, ' I renonnoe them alL' 

"Andbeaideathia meanings the oere- 
mony of drcamdaion waa like onr oere- 
mony of baptiam in two other thinga. 
The ficat of theae waa, that it waa the 
aymbol, or aign, of the ohild being 
formally admitted into the congregation 
of larael, aa baptiam ia the aymbol, or 
aign, of admlaaion into the Chriatian 
Ghvreh. And the eeeood, that the ohUd, 
at the nme time that it waa admUled 
into the eengregation of larael, reeeivod 
hie name, jnal aa ohiUren i»oeif« their 
lea wiMn they aia bap- 


As Baptists we ntterly i^ect this 
teaching, and greatly regret that it 
shoold be instilled, through the "^^grn 
of so excellent a pablication, into the 
minds of the children of onr land. 

The Christxak : a Weekly Record of 

Christian Lif<^ Christian Testimony^ 

and Christiaa Weak. Moigan&Soott| 

12, Paternoster Buildings. 

Ths part of this popular periodical 

which is befian os is the one which 

comiHMes the weekly issues for the 

month of December last. Itis voluminous 

and varied in its contents. Spedficaition 
is here impossible ; but we may observe 
tiiat this ^Weekly Record" maintains 
the character for which it has long been 
known. We cannot say that tiie type 
of piety which pervades it, and which 
it is specially adapted to create and to 
foster, is entirely to our taste. It seems 
to us to be too effeminate and merely 
emotional. Nor do we regard the teach- 
ing on some of its pages as sound and 
ScriptiiraL There are, however, many 
useful pieces in it, amongst which we 
would specially note the addresses of 
Mr. Aitken to City men, and tiiose by 
Joseph Cook in Scotland. Information 
as to evangelistic work of various kinds 
is copiously supplied. 

School ANNivsBa^BT Music. Com- 
posed for Qirk and Boys, with (ad 
lib.) Tenor and Bass Parts for 
Fanulj Use. By Henry Dennis. 
Price Two Shillings. London : 
Novello^ Ewer, & Co. Leicester : 
Winks & Son. 
Thi8S Songs tas Sunday-school Ajini- 
veisaries are in a style different from 
that which has been fisshionable for 
some yeaKB^ and, in onr judgment, a 
considerable improvement iq)on it. 
They axe as simple in their structure as 
they need be^ and most of them emi- 
nenUy tuneful ; but they do not run 
in those particular grooves which are 
sufficiently described by the term 
^ American," and of which we confess 
ourselves to be heartily tared. Mr. 
Dennis has been well known and highly 
esteemed for many years in the Midland 
Counties as a composer of the kind of 
music of which the pieces before us are 
fiivourable specimens, and we shall be 
glad to learn that his compositions gain 
acoeas to a much wider circle by means 
of the needy printed publication to 
which we here gladly call attention. 



The HoiOLKnc Quarteblt. Jannaij, 
1881. London : C. Kegan Paul & 
Co^ 1, Patemoater So«r. 

Que minigterial friends will do irell to 
conFolt the Expositoiy Section of thia 
anmber of a publication which has 
deseiredlj secured for itself a high place 
in the literature of the modem polpity 
and which, in its own line, is without 
an equal— oinuMty indeed, without a 
rival, lliese ea^cNstions are Ter^ nu- 
merona^ and, being supplied by a large 
proportion of our most learned a^^d 
devout expository wzitersi will be idghtly 
r^arded as invaluable. ^ The Design 
of the Lord's Supper, and the Benefit it 
conveys to the Individual and the 
Chmch," are ably discussed in what is 
now iaahionably termed *'a clerical 
symposium" by Drs. Luthardt, E. de 
Preffienarf, R. F. Littledale, and the Rev. 
J. Page Hopps. The subject is a timely 
one, and these four writers have not ex- 
baosted it The Homiletical Section 
contains sixteen sermon-sketches, some 
of which are admirably arranged and 
richly suggestive. " Said and the Witch 
of Endor " is treated with considerable 
practical power by Dr. R. Bickersteth, 
and we have a capital sermon to children 
by Dr. Bdmond on "The Vision of 

Ward & Lock's Univibsal Ix- 
SEBUOiOB ; OR, SsLr-Cui/rnBE fob 
All Fully Illustrated. Ij[>ndon:. 

Ths popularised instruction in all the 
various departments of study, which we 
eordiaUy commended in our last 
number, is continued in this third part 

with equal fulness and skill, and the 
part is enriched by a most elaborate 
chart, setting forth << tiie intellectual and 
material progress of the world." The 
value of this chart for reference in 
matters of material progress, manners 
and customs, voyages and discoveries, 
the leading religions, literature, phi- 
losophy, and musie, painting, sculpture, 
and engmving, architeeture, &c., cannot 
be over^stated. The parts are only six- 
pence each. 

Frundly Gbextinos. Illustrated 
Readings for the People. London : 
Religious Tract Society. 
Every fresh venture of the Religious 
Tract Society seems more admirable 
and more successful than its predecessor, 
and this volume of " Friendly Greet- 
ings " is no exception to the rule. The 
readings are brief, lively, and varied — 
thoroughly saturated by the spirit of 
tlie Gtospel, and well adapted for all 
claflses of tiie people. The serial ought 
to secure an extensive circulation and 
to be scattered broadcast over the land. 

Childben's Daily Bbead : a Picture, 

Text, and Veise for Eveiy Day in 

the Year. London : Religious Tract 


AiroTHSB capital idea, for the most 

part well worked out The texts and 

verses are judiciously selected, and 

the illustrations are, as a rule, such as 

throw light upon them. The book can 

scarcely fail to win the attention, to 

gratify the taste, and impress the heart 

of our children, and so to furnish them 

with true bread from heaven. 

The Editor regrets that Reviews of many important and valuable works are 
unvoidably postponed till March for want of space. 


Y Cliebar's stately Btream Ezekiel dwelt, 

And made the river-side a house of prayer. 
By day, by night, in hiunble faith he knelt, 
And found his Qod, and found his comfort there. 

Removed fieur distant from the noisy throng. 

From court and camp and busy-thriving mart. 
He heard in silence the eternal song. 

And gained the blessing of the pure in heart 

Once, when the whirlwind swept the desert sand, 

As Moses in the bush by lightning fired. 
He marked the workings of the Almighty hand. 

And saw the vision which his soul desired. 

Out from the secret North Jehovah came. 

As when Auroras flush the midnight sky, 
His chariot shone with amber-coloured flame. 

And cherubim, for coursers, fleeted by. 

The lion bounded forth, the eagle flew. 

The stalwart ox, the nimble-footed man, 
The wondrous four the fiery chariot drew. 

And round the Zodiac in their circuit ran. 

Wheek within wheels drew on a crystal floor. 

The crystal floor upheld a sapphire throne, 
A human form the King of Glory bore. 

And wreaths of rainbows round his temples shone. 

Not in the whirlwind or the desert flame. 

But in the whisper of the still small voice. 
To thee, my soul, thy God reveals His name ; 

Learn thou the inmost secret, and rejoice. 

H. C. Lbonaad. 



MABCH, 1881. 

Cj^nbing plants anb |!0li0^eb ^oxntt-BiamB. 

ING DAVID loved his nation as a good father loves his 
children. His piety intensified and sanctified his patriot- 
ism. Mingled with the utterances of his gratitade for 
success in battle and his prayers for continued viotoij^ we 
find him pouring out his vehement desire that his people 
may be delivered from crime, from violence, from want — in one word, 
(torn all causes of discontent ; and, remembering that the possession 
of such blessings greatly depends upon excellence of national char- 
acter, and that national character is greatly determined by the kind 
of education given to the young, he prays : " Bid me, and deliver 
me, bom the hand of strange children, whose mouth speaketh 
vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood ; that our 
sons may be as plants grown up in their youth, and that our 
daoo^ters may be as comer-stones polished after the similitude of a 
palace.'' • 

Every true patriot wishes the boys of his nation to develop into 
good embodiments of manly strength, and its girls into equally good 
embodiments of womanly beauty. 

What are the elements of this manly strength which it is so 
deainble that the sons of the nation should exhibit? It must 
undoubtedly be partly physical. How important it is that our 
^ns be free from bodily infirmity. In the degree in which it is 

• Psalm cxUv. 11-13. 

98 Thriving Plants and Polished Corner-stones. 

not so, life must be a shaded and saddened thing. The body 
has capacities and functions of its own, and these should be 
preserved as fully as possible in a healthy state, and applied 
evermore to their right uses. The mere animal life, when 
801^ ajfld tru^ h^s its own blessedness, ^ is lamentadble 
when disease invades and depresses it. The body is meant to be the 
instalment of tiie niind, and it is needfnl that the instrument be kept 
in good working order. So that our youth should be taught to culti- 
vate r^ularity of life, rever^ee for pfajneical laws, an abhorrence of 
every indulgence which savours of intemperance or sensuaUty, deanU- 
ne^of p^on. of clothing, and of home! preference for plS. whole- 
isome food, together with a fondness for generous exercise among the 
free, fredi winds of heaven. One Ukes to see a race of stalwart men 
— ^men of large, full build — ^men of stout heart, tough lungs, and 
sturdy brain — ^men of untrembling hand and firm foot — ^men wbo are 
litdnMd into robustness by the grand severities of nature. Alas ! that 
our nmdteentii'^seiitary life, with its driving business, its sensational 
^^asores, and its relentless strain on brain and heart, should be so 
m&AifliAy inimical to this solid soundness of nerve and muscle I What 
Ais ftttSon, physically considered, wants to-day is to recede from the 
icrtifidicd modes of life into which it is so raj^dly drifting, and which 
have ruined some other great nations before now, and to return to 
tiMNse which are more primitive and natural And as prevention is 
always better than cure — as it is always easier to avoid a bad habit 
altmether than to break it when once it has been foimed — so it is wise, 
inlftSs reformation, to pay special attention to tbe young. Half the 
pltyskal infijrmities &om which men suffer are due to their violationa 
of the simplest laws of health in the earlier years of lifa 

HeaKh of intellect, however, is as essential as health of body to 
the full development of manly strength. The intellect, like all other 
psrts of our nature, has a distinctive life, and its life, like all other 
life, readies its maturity by successive stages, by t&e steady obser- 
vance of intellectual laws, by the due reception of intellectaal food> 
shd by the due maintenance of appropriate intellectual exercise, 
^^nonmce is to the mind what starvation is to the body. Enor is 
j^Msoin. Over-feeding is as sure to impair the health of tiie in^teDect 
BB liie bodily healtK All these evils should be sedulondy avoided 
from the b^inning. If the body be a nolje structure in itself, how 
much mare noble does it become when animated, directed, and trans- 

Thriving Plants and Polished Corner-stones. * 99 

fignred "by a Kving, thriving, well-developed, imperial mind. How 
exhilaiatiiig it would be to cast one's eye over the land, and, remem- 
bering that ** knowledge is power," to see that knowledge is spreading 
—to see that the yonng intellect of the nation is alive, growings 
feeling ont on every side after truth as the flower opens itself to the 
light, learning to think, to combine ideas oiganically together^ to 
reason, to detect facts and to arrange them, to discriminate, to sift 
evidence, to * prove all things, holding fast that which is good " — 
and an this with a view to bring np the life of the intellect to the 
high development of which the Creator has made it capable, and to 
apply it to the uses of civilisation for which He has designed it. 

Bat health of character is the main element in this manly strength 
which we axe considering — ^tbe one thing for which the energies of 
body and of nodnd have been given to us, and without which those 
energies would, in comparison, be but little better than so mudi 
wasted substance. Imagine a nation the sons of which are living in 
the sunsMue of Truth and Eighteousness — ^penetrated with con- 
science—wise, honest, generous in that which is little as also in that 
which is great, in the quietudes of home, in the pleasures of the social 
circle, in the temptations and harassments of business, and in the 
varying interests and thrilling excitements of public life — eveimor& 
scorning falsehood, trickery, and meanness — ^slow to give offence, and 
equally slow to take it — ^frank, candid, open, self-reliant and free — 
faithful to conviction^ yet tolerant of the convictions of those wha 
dissent — closely observing from day to day the beneficent maxim of 
the Saviour, '* Whatsoever ye would that others should do to you, do 
ye even so to them " ; cheerfdl and genial withal — ^patient in pain,, 
heroic in misfortune, resigned in trouble — bent on overcoming all evil 
^th good — pitiful to the poor, with an arm of support for the 
smking and of restoration for the fallen — always blithe, kindly, and 
helpfol — ^together with what is immeasurably better still, viz., all 
these noble qualities impregnated with vital godliness, based on the 
solid rock of Christian faith, receiving their sustenance from the good 
hand of the infinite Father, through the agency of holy meditation 
and prayer, and taking their form from daily fellowship with Hun 
^0 is ** God manifest in the flesh," and who assumed our nature that 
we ixd^t be "* filled with all the Ailness of God'' A nation com- 
posed of sons such as these is ^orious, whether it be numerically 
greet or small, and whatev^ may be its material chatacteristics or 

100 Thriving Pbmts and Polish^ Comer-stanes. 

suiTOundiiigs. Bat it should not be foigotten that the moial habits 
of childhood and of youth are those which are most likely to be 
perpetuated through manhood into old age, and that, to a large 
extent, we may judge what will be the character of the men of the 
future by the character which is in process of formation among the 
youth of to-day. 

But whilst the true patriot desires that the sons of the nation may 
develop into good embodiments of manly strength, he also desires 
that its daughters may develop into equally good embodiments of 
womanly beauty. This beauty is threefold — ^beauty of form, beauty 
of mind, and beauty of character. The beauty of form is a form of 
beauty which the Creator has given us the instinctive disposition to 
admire, and within proper limits it ought to be cultivated. God 
Himself is '' the Infinite Beauty," and He arrays Himself, for the de- 
light of His children, in the splendours of Nature. Angels and saints 
in heaven are enrobed in beauty. Why should beauty be accounted 
a vain thing on the earth, as it is by some who mistake puritanicalness 
tor piety and an ugly asceticism for spirituality? It' may be 
imgracious, and to some it may seem impertinent, for me to offer any 
^ remark upon those peculiarities of dress which are chosen by certain 
orders of persons as carrying with them some symbolical or spiritual 
significance ; but for the life of me I have never been able to see 
why our '' Sisters of mercy " should veil their faces and drape them- 
selves in black, as though they were engaged in a misision " full of 
lamentation and mourning and woe." Surely they would perform 
their work in a more suitable and wholesome manner if they pre- 
sented in it a comeUer and more cheerful aspect. With r^ard to 
the general question of female attire, I will only say that no woman 
honours her Maker by allowing her bodily frame to be subjected 
to any unnecessary deformity or to any habit of slovenliness. No 
doubt there is danger in the opposite direction. This physical 
beauty may become an idol. When it does so, it is beauty no longer^ 
and "we associate it with mirrors and lavenders and effeminacy 
and self-worship, and should prefer the plaiuest coimtenance which 
has ' the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit' " 

This reminds us of the fact that there is a far deeper and diviner 
beauty within the reach of the daughters of our land than that which 
consists in mere external comeliness. Beauty of form has a chairm of 
its own ; but if there be no other beauty beneath it, and of which it is 

Thriving Plants and Polished Comer-stones. t o i 

the trae expression, its chann soon subsides. Stand before an ex- 
quisitely designed and superbly executed statue ; the longer you gaze 
the more completely you will be entranced. Why? Because the 
beauty of its form suggests to your imagination a corresponding inner 
beauty of which the outer beauty is but the embodiment That is, the 
statue is beautiful in proportion as, to the imagination, it ceases to be 
a statue, and becomes a living thing. Many a woman possesses in a 
high degree the external graces of form and manner who is lamentably 
destitute of beauty of character. Such a woman is not truly beauti- 
ful On the contrary, many a woman, possessing few, if any, 
external clarms, is yet felt to be eminently beautiful because 
she has an inner beauty which shines steadily through all external 
deficiencies. The true womanly beauty is beauty of soul; and it 
is seen in her modesty — ^in her gentleness — ^in the purity 'and sim- 
plicity of her thoughts — ^in the contentment with which she fills 
the less public situations in life which her Creator has assigned to 
her— in her much-enduring love — in the silent, unmurmuring meekness, 
with which she accepts such sorrow as may fall to her lot — ^in the ready 
and intuitive tact with which she meets trying emergencies — ^in her 
unselfish and xmostentatious charities — ^in the quickness and tender- 
ness of her sympathy — ^in the serenity with which she reposes in the 
love of Grod — ^in the peaceful delight with which, like Mary, she sits, 
at the feet of Jesus — in the alacrity with which, like Martha, she wlU 
arise and serve — always a frank and unsuspicious recipient, always 
a loving and gentle helper. Such, as regards the main features of 
character, is what every woman should be, and what, by a wise edu- 
cation, every girl in the land should as fully as possible become. 

It is meet that this manly strength and womanly beauty should 
be combined together. The spacious, well-cultivated, luxurious^ 
garden is incomplete without the mansion; the spacious, well- 
arranged, well-furnished mansion is incomplete without the garden. 
To an true Christians an apostle might say : '' Ye are God's hus- 
bandry ; ye are God's building ; " not the one alone, nor the other 
alone, but both together in one. A plant grown latge in its youth is 
not only a symbol of strength, but also a symbol of beauty. A 
comer-stone polished after the similitude of a palace is not only a 
symbol of beauty, but also a sym'bol of strength. Strength is the 
11^ characteristic of the ideal man — but his strength is aU the 
nobler for being in a measure attempered by those gentler and more 

102 4* Gleanef^s Handful.. 

unselfish q^alities which. make woman beautifuL . Beauty is the 
main characteristic of the ideal woman ; but her beauty is all the 
more attractive for being in a measure invigorated by those bolder 
qualities which give to man his strength. 

So, then, the great want everywhere is a truly Christian education, 
and the persons who before all others should set themselves to the 
supply of this want are Christian parents. If all these, being duly 
alive to their responsibility, were careful, under God, to bring up 
their children to habits of intelligent and fervent piety, not one would 
be found in a hundred of such children upon whom such an education 
would be thrown away. "Train up a child in the way he should go, 


and when he is old he will not depart from it." An exception to the 
rule may be observed here and there ; but the validity of the rule 
would not be affected by an occasional exception. Christian parents 
ought generally to be the parents of Christian families, and if they 
were so to any large degree the kingdom of the Wicked One would 
soon perish, as the empire of Turkey was once said by Lamartine to 
be " dying for want of Turks." Combine with this power an aggres- 
sive agency with special adaptations to the millions of the young 
who have godless parents and corrupt surroundings, and not many 
years would elapse before every Christian patriot on the face of the 
earth would survey his nation with a jubilant heart, saying : " Thank 
Qod our sons ar^ as plants grown up in their youth, and our daughters 
art as comer-stones polished after the similitude of a palace." 



IR J. F. DAYIES, in his Greneral Description of China, gives 
us some interesting specimens of Chinese proverbs, many 
of which suggest profitable leflections. For instance, a 
warning is conveyed when we read, *' You cannot walk on 
snow without leaving tracks." Kow, in a moral sense, tiie 
snow** is everywhere. Longfellow says : — 

^ No aetion, whether foul or fair, 
Is ever done bat it leaves somewhefee 
A reeord written by fingen ghostly, 
Ab a Mffflmg or a cuzse." 

And science confinos the trotiL Professor Hitoboocki i|i a olMKf ter 
entitled "The Telegraphic System of th« Univene/'. giTes aoBie 
striking proofs to show that the past history of the wotld, iand. Of 
individuals, may exists written upon rays of light, and imptieaBCfd 
upon objects in a cypher we may some day better understand* 

Walk nowhere, is the lesson, where you would be ashamed of the 
{ffoofs of your going to be found. Walk onward, where the evidences 
of your consistency and progress may be manifest. Walk so that 
your own eye may satisfactorily glance backward and review the 
path you have trodden. 

" He who pursues the stag regards not hares." A passion for the 
greater object makes a man indifferent to the lesser. Not, however, 
what sometimes we think to be the greater, but what is really so 
should be the aim of our ambition. 

The '' stags " of some men are the '' hares " of others, and vkt wni^ 
The highest application would be to reflect that " the things which 
are seen are temporal, the things unseen eternal." 

" Dig a well before you are thirsty." Too often action is deferred 
•till necessity compels ; but the nwhat distress, and sometimes ruin, 
is occasioned. A work that might well claim earnest attention for 
months ought surely not to be deferred for hurried accomplishment 
in a few moments. Hagar's eyes were opened that she saw, in her 
extremity, a well of water; but her experience is no rule for us» 
Some eyes at such a time might be never opened to see anything 
but what the Arabs call '' desert water " — the mirage. A Sabbi onoe 
told lus disciples, *' Be sure you repent the day before you die/* 
^'But how," they asked, "can we know which is that day?" 
'''Bepent," he replied, ''every day, and then you will have fulfilled 
mj command." 

" In a field of melons do not pull up your shoe ; under a plum-ttee 
do not adjust your hat" Your conduct, that is« may appear suspicious 
and be mistaken by observers, while, after all, you are only doing 
light or indifierent things. ''Abstain from all appearance of evil,'' 
wntes the apostle. A Christian minister, at the house of a friend oa 
the Lord's-day, took a newspaper from a what*not to verify some 
casual statement or passing event. The supper was being laid, and 
the servant was passing in and out With a gentle hand the good 
wife of the friend took the paper and replaced it witii the suggestive 
wonb^ " Let not your good be evil spoken of " 

104 A Gleaner^ s Handful. 

Perhaps there is nothing more striking in regard to the exaction of 
penalty for wrong-doing than the accounts some writers have given of 
the '' Vendetta/' or blood for blood. This practice prevails in C!or8ica» 
Sardinia, Albania, Monten^io, and other places. Woe to him who 
has insulted or injured the blood relation of another. The offender 
flies to the mountains, hides among the forests, lurks in caverns, 
climbs to the r^ons -of perpetual snow, but the avenger is on his 
track. Or he shuts himself up in his house, barricades its doors and 
windows, and even for ten or fifteen years will not leave his dwelling. 
But revenge never sleeps nor forgets. A man in Ajaccio had lived 
ten years in his room. At last he ventured into the open street. He 
feU dead on the threshold of his house as he re-entered. The ball of 
the avenger had pierced his heart. ''Twelve lives," is their fierce 
expression, " would not suffice to avenge a fallen man's boots \ ** It 
is a true carrying out of the words of the old Greek tragedian — 

^ On, on, there are bis footsteps plainly, 
Trust the dmnb lead of the betraying trail ; 
For as the bloodhounds trace the wounded deer, 
So we by his scent and blood do search him out" 

Is it not a picture of the Nemesis that dogs the heels of sin ? Does 
it not furnish illustration of the perpetual fulfilment of the words, 
" Be sure your sin will find you out ? " You think you may escape 
its penalty, and that events may crowd out the remembrance. But 
in due time a shadowy hand is placed on the shoulder, and a spectral 
voice seems to say, "Have you forgotten me?" "Evil pursueth 
sinners." Better, however, know and prove this in life, where sin can 
be repented of, than meet the avengers after life, when penalty 
cannot be escaped, but must be exacted to the fuU. 

What power has conscience ? In the Times some months ago we 
noted an advertisement : " Should this meet the eye of two sisters at 
school many years ago at Peckham Bye, the advertiser acknowledges, 
with deep regret, the doing of certain acts attributed to them."* 
Ah I within those years how many sharp compunctions had 
been felt; what fierce self-upbraidings had been experienced. 
The restless and unappeased avenger within had followed in her 
wrath. Mr. Yince related that a man once came to him, his cheeks 
wet witii tearsy disturbed and haunted by the memory of unkindnesff 
to his father, who had been dead forty years. We are reminded, too, 
of Dr. Johnson, at Litchfield, standing bareheaded in the market- 

A Gleonei^s Handful, 105 

plaoe for two hours as a kind of penance, in regretftil recollection 
flat once, years before, his &ther had desired him to attend his 
bookstall there, and he had refused. Thus self-accused were the 
brethren of Joseph when they said one to another, " We are verily 
guilty concerning our brother, in that we saw the anguish of his soul 
when he besought us and we would not hear ; therefore is this distress 
come upon us." So smitten was Herod when he said, " This is John 
the Baptist : he is risen from the dead ! " The most terribly haunted 
i house is the heart with an uneasy conscience. 

Unfounded fears, however, are sometimes unworthy causes for 
alann. Their frequent unnecessariness may be fitly sjrmbolised by 
the experience of a missionary traveller who went to investigate the 
&ct8 concerning the death of Messrs. Stoddart and Connolly at the 
Court of Bokhara. As he was about to pursue his course from 
Karakol to the town, they said to him, " Thee the King will kill. 
The moment that you see horsemen come out from Bokhara you will 
observe that some come with baskets; those baskets will contain 
bandages wifii which you will be blindfolded, and chains with which 
you will be chained, and knives with which you will be slaughtered.** 
He had to drag his mule after him, forsaken as he was by all his 
servants. The inhabitants said as he passed, " There shall be again 
another victim of a guest at Bokhara." Suddenly three horsemen 
were observed galloping towards him. One after the other reached 
him, and, calling him by name, asked if he were the man. He 
replied, " Yes." At last the Grand Chamberlain reached him, with 
two men having baskets in their hands. His servant, Hussein, 
peeped from behind a tree, and the Turcomans were at a distance 
following, as though they had no connection witii him. But the Grand 
Chamberlain saluted the traveller by drawing his hands through his, 
and then, stroking his beard, said, " The prince of believers, Naser 
Oolah Behadur, feels great kindness towards you ; " then, opening the 
baskets, instead of bandages and chains, most delicious pomegranates^ 
apples, pears, melons, cherries, tea, milk, and sugar were produced 
out of them. 

Pear would sometimes prompt us to be cowards. Many scenes 
and events in life may have a menacing aspect. We have to 
go alone, for others are daunted. But, instead of dark predictions 
being fulfilled, lo ! what refreshing contrasts await us — instead of 
repulsion, welcome ; instead of frowns, smiles ; instead of injuries. 

blasaings. Oome, tunid penitent, piore it in highest expemnoe in 
regard to God. Come, timorous confessor, verify it by witnessing a 
good profession of your fedth and hope. Come, follower of Christ, to 
every duty bring the spirit of determination and zeal ; difficulties 
shall melt away, and the sun of hope and joy shall shine. 

little worries sometimes become great evils, and miserable fancies 
tend to become exacting tyrants. In the Talmud, Titus is described 
as the most wicked man in existence ; and it is related of him that 
he died from the tortures produced by a little fly of copper, which 
entered his brain during the siege of Jerusalem, and increased in size 
until it became as large as a dove, and tormented him to death. The 
Mohammedans also say of Nimrod that he suffered from an insect 
which preyed upon liis brain, and never allowed him a moment's 
repose. Have we not met in life with some who have been terribly 
harried by persistent little vexations ? Have they not been wretched 
victims to some phantom of the mind that has loomed larger and 
larger to their vision ? Have we not ourselves sometimes felt the top 
great influence of trivial things ? But great is the pity and great the 
fault in our case when such evUs are allowed. 

It is a fine art to be a peacemaker. It takes much skill to settle 
differences and readjust relations that have become complicated. 
Some, however, seem to have very happy ability in this, and both 
fiamilies and churches have witnessed with admiration their method, 
and rejoiced in the result. When Dr. Joseph Wolff was in Cashmere 
he witnessed, so he relates, a troop of dancing girls perform their 
graceful and clever feats. Eose leaves were strewed upon the 
ground, and they danced so as to form the petals again into roses. 
Wonderfiil, we say; yes, but when, in the higher art of social 
reharmonisation, wounded feelings and severed friendships are com* 
posed and brought together afresh, still more attractive and pleasing 
is the result. But the greatest skill can hardly bring about in many 
cases the happier state that existed before. 

There is a difficult passage in Ecclesiastes. The writer says : — 
" He [ie., God] has set the world in their heart [i.^., the hearts of 
men], so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from 
the beginning to the end!" Many have tried to solve this riddle, and 
put in words the idea intended; but this has often appeared too 
insubstantial to be caught by a definition. We think we are indebted 
to Lard Bacon for the best explanation we have ever seen. In his 

» Advanoemeiit of Learning " he says : — ** God hafi {mmed the mind 
like a glass eapaUe of the image of the univerde^ and desirous to 
leoeivd it as the eye to receive the light ; and thus it is not only 
pleased with the variety and vicissitudes of things, but also endeavonis 
to find out the laws they observe in their changes and altemations." 

We may compare with this what Hume believed, viz^ '' that all 
the secrets of the external world are wrapped up in the human 
mind." Of the passage we have quoted, as of many others in the 
ioapiied volume, it may be said what the Abb^ Winkleman afi&rmed of 
the Apollo Belvedere : " Go," said he, " and, if you see no beauty, 
go again and again, for be sure it is there/' 

It used to be stated of some eminent men of the time of Queen 

Elizabeth that Earl Leicester seemed wiser than he was. Sir Nicholas 

Bacon was wiser than he seemed to be, but Lord Hudson neither 

seemed nor was wise. Varieties of these leading types stiQ exist 

afflong us. There axe a good many of the first class, and also of the 

last But who does not wish to quicken and arouse those of the 

intemiediate kind, of which also there are not a few ? Do not the 

world and the Church lose much on their account ? 

" If our virtues 
Do not go forth of us 'twere all alike, 
As if we had them not" 

Mr. Jesse relates that certain fish give preference to bait that has 
l)eeii perfumed. When the Prince of Evil goes forth in quest of 
victimis, there does not need much allurement added to the common 
temptations of life to make them eifective. Fishers of men, however, 
do well to employ all the skill they can to suit the minds and tastes 
of those whom they seek to gain. Truth is at a disadvantage in 
a sinful world. Let all the just attractions that culture, knowledge, 
And study of adaptation can supply be brought iato requisition* 
Who knoweth but that the appeal may be mighty and the result 
Messed? But ever it must be remembered, the prevailing grace 
comefch from above. 

A political prisoner in Naples, arrested for expressing his sympathy 
with the misery of those with whom he mingled, related afterwards 
to a lady the experience of his distress in the dungeon into which 
^e was thrown. Through a bitter life of three long years he pined 
for release, but wept to think how little hope there was. He con* 
ceived he was going mad, and was ready to give himself up to despair. 

108 A GUaner^s Handful. 

One day, however, he caught sight of a small piece of smooth wood 
on the ground. He had heard of people writing with their blood in 
prison. Oh, if he could only find a pin! How he searched the 
crevices between the bricks as long as there remained light enough. 
And what a wild joy when he discovered what he had been so 
earnestly seeking. With the point of the instrument he pricked his 
finger and with its head wrote on the soft wood a message to his 
national representative, the Swiss Consul After this he flung it out 
of a grating where a small open space had been left for ventilation. 
It was picked up by someone, and in due time he was released. Here 
was prayer to man with unwonted ardour and success. 

The Apostle tells the Hebrews they had not yet resisted unto blood 
striving against sin. In the sense of earnestness, suggested by this 
incident, may we not ask if we have pleaded unto blood in prayer to 
God ? Some know very little of ardour in this exercise, but let them 
take a lesson from this political prisoner. If he sought thus for 
temporal blessings, surely we ought not to be behindhand in longing 
for spiritual ones, nor void of the hope of obtaroing them in the use 
of right means. 

St. Jerome, towards the close of his life, planned an ecclesiastical 
histoiy in which he intended to record, not the triumph, but the 
decline of the Church, and the influence of truth. So men sometimes 
lose heart and hope, and yet the power of the truth grows, and 
greatens, in the world. President Lincoln, one autumn night, was 
urged to get up ; the stars were falling, the world was coming to an 
end. He got up and was startled at flrst, but looking more steadily 
he saw behind these strange phenomena the fine old constellations as 
fixed in the heavens as ever — Orion with his sword and belt, Ursa 
Major, Arcturus, the Pleiades, all calmly shining on. " Ah ! " said he. 
*' I think m go to bed ags^n." Fear not for truth. The meteors of 
the moment shall pass away, but the lights of eternity will still 
shine on. 

We are told that the Spaniards, under Cortez, fighting in Mexico,, 
believed they saw St James careering on his nulk- white steed at the 
head of the Christian squadrons, with his sword flashing lightning. 
A greater presence in a nobler cause is ours ; and His word, like a 
sword going forth from His mouth, shall vanquish all His foes and 
execute His wiU. 

Quietly hope and patiently wait 


Humility of Mind in the Study of Divine Truth. 109 

Dr. Joseph Wolff relates the following in his travels : — ^Having 
spent many months among wild Turconuuis, having been delivered 
fiomslaveiyy escaped death at Doab, and passed through the wild 
moimtains of the Khaiibee, hoi;^ delightful was it to find himself 
agreeably suiroonded by kind people as he entered the Poigaub. At 
the Court of Sonjnd Singh^ where he was hospitably received^ all were 
dressed in white garments, widi hands folded before them, as if in 
prayer, or waiting an order from a superior. The Grandees were 
adorned with golden ornaments, and everything wore an air of 
samptuousness and repose. The King and all his rich officials pre* 
seated to him valuable gifts of shawls, jewels, fine linen, and money-^ 
in short, all that the country produced of value — and vied with each 
other in showing kindness to the destitute wanderer. How agreeably, 
he adds, will the believer in Christ be surprised when, having faith- 
fully fought on earth the good fight of faith, and under many trials 
and afSictions finished the work given him to do, his soul shall dis- 
entangle itaelf from the burden of the body, and upon the pinions of 
angels flee to that land where a crown of glory, which fadetb not 
away, is prepared for him; and where the family of heaven, clothed 
in whiter garments than those of the Sikhs, shall meet him, and, while 
all the radiant host shall rejoice, he shall hear the welcome, not of a 
heathen king, but of the King of kings, exclaiming, " Well done, good 
and faithful servant ; enter into the joy of thy Lord ! " 6. McM. 

''I do not ezercise myself in great matters, which axe too high for me : But I 
le&ain my soul, and keep it low."— -Psalm czzxi 2-3. 

HE text carries us into the region of thought. It recognises 
the responsibility of thinking. It presupposes the possi- 
bility of choosing and refusing in the entertainment of 
subjects. It implies that there are wholesome topics of 
thought and imwholesome; and that a man is just as 

much bound to discriminate in the things he thinks of, as in the 

— — ' - 

*Fiom a Sermon preMhed befoK the Univexsity of Oifotd on Bandaj, 
Joaa leth, 1878» by Dean Yanghm. 

0M Humility of Mind in the Study of Divine Truth. 

BmploTmeiit of b!s hotmi, the formatkai of his habits, or the aeleetion 
of his friends. 

Most men know perfeetly well thut they can control thonght — titat 
they can make " the porter watdi " the comings in as wdl as the 
goings ont — ^the entnmces of thought as well as the exits of action. 

Bat the r^narkable thing in the text is the enlargement of the 
rssponsibilitf of this self-4)ontrol from the nature and quality to the 
scale and size of the thoughts. 

We can well believe that the holy and devout P&almist did not 
suffer his heart to entertain licentious and lascivious thoughts — that 
he did not compose these sweet songs, or wend his way towards Zion, 
with the love of sin allowed in him, or with the power of sin reigning. 
. He speaks not of low, but of high thoughts — not of grovelling, but 
of Boaaang imaginations — as the disallowed and discountenanced 

And there can be no doubt that there is a danger in this direction. 
There are not only evil desires, sinful lustings, to make fr^htful 
havoc of the life and of the soul ; there are also speculations and 
xovings of thought, which give no other warning of theur nature than 
this, that they bel(mg to districts and regions beyond and above ns — 
that they aie fatal to the quietness and silence of the spirit — ^that 
tbey cannot be entertained without re-awakening those restless and 
unsatiafied yearnings which were just beginning to stiU themseives 
on the bosom of infinite love. 

Of this sort, sometimes, are the ambitions of this lifa Ambition 
has a use as weU as an abuse. St. Paul himself, who had counted all 
things loss, yet, thrice in his epistles, speaks of ambition as his life. 
We use ambition in our education. We count anything better than 
that stagnation of the being which begins in idleness and ends in 
sensuality. We waken up the drowsy eneigies by proposing to them 
prizes of effort We bid them even " strive fof masteries." CSmpeti- 
tion itself, though it be the near kinsman of that " emulation * which 
St. Paul puts among the works of the flesh, is yet enlisted among the 
aoldieis of Jesus Christ, if so be it may sublime itself at last iato an 
effort which desires no man's crown. 

Nevertheless, we all feel that there is an ambition " which overleaps 
itself' not more in the arrogance of its successes than in the extrava- 
ga&oe4)f its expectotioiiflL There are men who would have been not 
only happier^ but greater, if they had beeiLless smbitioiia There wn 

Humility of Mind in the Study of Divine Truth. 1 1 i 

men whose Immbler efforts would at least have been Tespecte<)[ but 
whose more adventurous soarings have ended only in ridicule. 

Especially is this true in the province of the intellect. We have 
known little men living with great men till nothing could content 
them but being great themselves. They have breathed an intellectual 
atmosphere t till they have imagined an inspiration. There was no 
man to say to them, or they heeded not the warning, * Learn of the 
wise, but be not many masters." They began by reproducing — ^they 
ended in imitating. The very words of the wise came not " mended,** 
but damaged, " from that tongue.** They stood on tiptoe, but they 
were dwarfs stilL The same men, contented with reality — ^which, in 
their case, was mediocrity — might have done a useful, if not an 
iflnstrious, work in the generation in which they were set, not to 
illiiniinate, but to serve. As men of industry, men of information, 
men of sense, they might have been eyes to the blind and feet to the 
lame. They might have been teachers in schools of which they could 
not be founders — ^handers-on of the torch of truth, which it was not 
pven them to kindle. After all, the debt of the passing generation 
must be more to toil than to genius: this was their measure, this 
ought to have been their goal. They ought to have said — ^and they 
would have been gainers by sajring it — ^ I will not exercise myself in 
great matters — ^they are too high for me. I wiU calm and hush my 

That which is true in the ambitions of this life, whether profes- 
sional or intellectual, is not less true in religion. It might seem that 
the Ptehnist wrote of this — ^it is for the sake of this, certainly, that 
we make his words our text to-day. 

They are exemplified within the Church and without They are 
exemplified in the treatment of Eevelation — ^by believers, by 
doubters, by foes. The doctrine of the TWnity has been turned 
oftentimes from a " mystery ** in the Divine sense into a ** mystery ** 
in the human. The soul should have calmed and hushed itself in 
that presence, as before the revelation of a Father, a Saviour, and a 
Comforter, not three Gods but one Grod— each person necessary to 
the repose and to the activity, to the comfort and to the Hfe, of every 
one of us, as we struggle along the path of difficulty into the dear 
light and into the perfect peace of a world in which God Aall be " afl 
m alL'* Instead of this, speculation has been busy, and controversy has 
been busy^ and logic has been busy, and rhetoric has been busy, and 

112 Humility of Mind in the Study of Divine Truth, 

the whole matter has been referred and relegated from the tribunal of 
the soul to the tribunal of the intellect — ^theologians have exercised 
themselves in matters too wonderful for them — ^prayer has been 
intermitted for wrangling, and every nutritious particle has been 
extracted and exterminated out of the bread of life. 

There has been something wrong, we all say, in a process of which 
the result \& thus disastrous. And we cannot think that the fault lay 
in the thoroughness or in the manifoldness of the investigation. It 
was not meant, we are quite sure, that any part of the man should be 
idle in the dealing with Hevelation. Season cannot be hostile, save 
by scandalous mismanagement, to that which the God of reason has 
spoken ; indeed, we demur altogether to the introduction into this 
subject of those metaphysical partitions of the unit humanity which 
alone make it possible to set truth and trath at variance, by 
speaking of understanding and conscience, of judgment and will, 
almost as of separate personalities, and drawing sharp lines between 
their several jurisdictions in the decision and action of the man. 
The man is one, and but one ; he moves altogether if he moves at all ; 
and the fault lies, not in using this part of himself when he ought to 
have used that, but rather in the spirit in which he used either — ^in 
the foigetfulness, perhaps, of the necessary limitations of knowing, but 
still more in the posture and attitude in which he set .himself to 
know. '' My heart is not haughty, nor mine eyes lofty — ^I have 
calmed and hushed my souL" 

It may be that theologians have something to answer for in the 
sadder example to which we pass onward. 

The life must have been secluded from common experiences — the 
heart must be steeled against human compassions — ^if the one has not 
known, if the other has not wept over, some shipwreck of faith, of 
which we have here perhaps the explanation. The soul that should 
have " behaved and quieted itself" has been " exercised in great 
matters, in things too high for it," and the result is that utter sweeping 
away of the faith and of the hope which we can speak of, in this 
house of God, with full assurance of sympathy, as a calamity than 
which th^e can be none greater. 

There are minds unqualified or disqualified for speculation. There 
are minds quick and shallow — capable of doubt, incapable of dedaion. 
There are minds undisciplined and uneducated — ^because they have 
not had the chance, or because they have flung the chance away. 

Humilify of Mind in the Study of Divine Truth. 113 

There are minds ignorant of the ** great gulf, fixed " in reason, fixed in 
the nature of things, between doubting and disbelieving — ^minds for 
which the entrance of one doubt is the banishment of a million of 
certainties — ^minds destitute alike of the power to weigh and the 
power to number, insomuch that a sneer is as potent with them as a 
martyrdom, and one sentence of an infidel magazine is answer enough 
and to spare to the argument of eighteen centuries of Christian lives 
and deaths. 

To minds such as these is it not unfortunate that the accident of 
Uie day and of the hour should have brought the suggestion of scep-> 
ticism ? Those of us who have seen the thing will say so — ^those of 
ns who have seen the faith or ministry of Jesus Christ abandoned 
and flung away because the insolence of a " Gnosis falsely so called " 
came across the path of a young man and told him that there can be 
no proof of that which you can neither touch, nor taste, nor smell. 
Would it not have been better for that intellect (so caUed) if it had 
never dabbled in speculation ? Was it fit for it ? Ought it not to 
have been differently trained — ^I had almost said, differently con- 
stituted — ^if it was ever to embark in it with advantage — ^by which I 
mean, with any prospect of finding the truth ? 

But these are our times, and as they art we must deal with them. 
It is idle to fold the hands in mournful regrettings. God has " set the 
hounds of the habitation," " Sparta is our lot, and we must adorn 
it" We shall enter into no comparisons, save such as breathe thank- 
fuhess, between the days that are and the days that have been. 
The present is a disturbing force in such calculations ; we cannot 
stand far enough off, even in imagination, to do justice to the picture 
If we were not able to counsel, neither would we complain. But thb 
sul)ject which we have suggested is full of admonition — ^for each one 
of us, and for all. 

It is impossible to live the life of this age and not to inquire. 
Close ear and eye — scepticism is in the air. It was always in books, 
now it is in society. A whole table was challenged lately by the 
question, " Is there any one so old-fashioned as to believe the Bible ? " 
This was an insolence, this was an outrage. But it only exaggerated, 
it only distorted, a fact. On that occasion there was one man brave 
enough to answer, " / cfo," and the courage told. But how shall a 
young man in such times, educated or uneducated, exercise that calm- 
ing and hushing, that behaving and quieting, which the text speaks of ? 


1 14 Hufniltty of Mind in the Study of Pivine Truth. 

Who shall prescribe the right to speculate and the no right ? Who 
.^l^all Uy dowp the conditions, py^ent or retrospective; under which a 
ration^ being, ordained or unordained, shall he at liberty to eicercise 
Ijimself in great matters too high for him or for any naan ? It cannot 
be done. And if you attempt it, you are met instantly by the cavil, 
" Xhen you would Jeave every man in * the tongue wherein he was 
bom/ " Musisulman, Brahmin, Buddliist, every man has his religion ; 
if the Christian is to be kept perforce within the confines of his tradi- 
tiow, he must allow to others the " protection " which is the necessity 
pf his own. 

Brethren ! I sp^k in this place — for this once more — ^to a powerful 
phalanx of young men. You have to go forth into this out-spoken, 
thi» insubordinate, this freethinking age. If you would, you ciLnnot 
.alter it. You must hear its wild talk, you must move with it in its 
bpld swing. I can desire few things better for you than that you 
should dread it. It is a terrible world into which you are going, 
|;errible in its strength, terrible in its daring. This age fears nothing 
— neither heaven above nor hell beneath. It has settled for itself 
that the latter is not — save as an embellishment of positiveness, save 
as an expletive of passion. It doubts much about the former. It is 
i^ore than half inclined to think that nothing is but the material. It 
;s encouraged in these ideas by men of science, who ought to know 
that they themselves are moved and swayed by other forces besides 
the tangible. Theologians are not always consistent in their m^dnten- 
ance of the principle that Jesus Christ ^ speaks that He doth know 
and testifies that He hath seen." They also coquet with the sceptic 
— oflFer to meet him half-way, and find, when they have done so, that 
he is in his cave still ! 

What I would presume tp urge upon you, in these days of your 
youth, is this — 

First, that you feel the responsibility of those decisions which will 
soon be forced upon you. Our age has one piark, I think, of a late 
place in the world's history — ^that there is a more resolute taking of 
sides for the great struggle ; that the^ is less of that unmarked colour- 
less Christianity which called Christ Lord-^— which coimted infidelity 
a discourtesy and atheism an insult-n-yet had no word to say when 
the nominal Master was either dishonoiired by immorality or trodden 
under foot iu His brethren. Tl^is is a gain more than a loss. It 
makes the Gospel mp^re real* The troops aro drawing off, this way 

Humiliiy of Mind in the Sttufy of Divine Truth. 1 1 5 

and that vagr, towaidB tbeir positjoiuh-rwe are on tlie eve of the greafe 

We never felt, as now, the importanoe of education. You have 
heard to-day of minde nnqnalified or diaqualijSied for gxeat mattem* 
Thexe is no exeiue for those who, bATing 'what you have here, go 
forth in this atate to life's battle. Oh^ if yon would learn now to thank 
God for your reason, to thank Grod for your leisure, to thank €rod for 
your hooka, for your lectures, for your chapeK for your saoraments ! 
These are, for yon, like those " days of the Son of Man/^ <me of which, 
afterwards, you would give life to '' see " again. How fearful, fearful 
for bodi worlds, if you should, any of you, go forth hence, unskilled 
in judging between the true and the false, unable to separate between, 
the preoious and the vile, when the two present themselves, m the 
next stage of your being, and you must choose bdkween them for liff» 
and death, for the life and death (perhaps) of mora than your o>wa 
aool ! An educated man might also be defined as a man i^hois " nob 
soon shaken in mind," whetiier '' by word, or spirili, or Jkeltsv^'-»T^ 
])ecause he has been taught by long discipline both to " prove all 
things " and to '' hold fast that whidi is good." The herd of sceptics 
may be led by an intellect — ^they have no intellect, generally speak- 
ing, of their own. They are at the mercy of loud talk and confident 
statemmt, which fiattero while it undermines, which tffeata its hearers. 
as simple, but compUmente them as wise. 

Not, then, to foreclose thinking, but to prepare for it, is the work 
of all education that is worth the name. And such preparation will, 
above all things, enforce that preliminary '' calming and hushing '^ 
vhich the text tells of. It will semind the youi^ man that this ia 
not the first year of the century, and not the .fijst year of the race- 
It will bid him ren^amibev that he hknaelf has a past as well as a^ 
I^esent, and that he cannot, if he would> cut himself off from it. On 
any supposition it must be necessary to take into acodunt the ciieum- . 
stances, over which he had no control, of his birthy of his parentage, 
of his nationality, of his religion. We would say it to a Mohammedan^: 
ve would sajT it to a Hindoo^ There is a presumption in favour of 
the thing that is. There is an antecedeak probability on the side of 
the pdity, 00 the aide of the society^ lOn the side of the opinion, in . 
which you were torn. To change a Jaith is a tremendoifs step ; not 
without a moral compulsion ought it to be taken. To change fvona 

faith to no £aitli is a more fearful stride .still ; look around^ above,' 


1 1 6 Humility of Mind in the Study of Divine Truth. 

within you — ^it is common prudence — ere you adventure it These 
considerations are not decisive. If changes of faith were wrong, we 
should have no Gospel ; if to leave the religion of a man's fathers 
were wicked, we should have no day in our calendar for the con- 
version of St. PauL Bat seriousness, awe, reverence, humility 
— these qualities are above all graces, when the question is at issue, 
" Must I relay my very foundations ? " 

We will not say that there is always a want of seriousness in the 
scepticism of to-day. Amongst much playing at doubting, there is 
also a struggle and a death-grapple which is worthy of the crisis. 
There are men living anxious lives, tliere are men "standing in 
jeopardy every hour," there are men dying many deaths daily, in the 
controversy, which they suffer no eye to watch over, between the 
spirit of &iith and the spirit of doubting. We feel that, in the sight 
of Infinite Love, such men may be worthier, nobler, holier far than the 
easy, complacent, conventional worshipper whose faith stands really 
in the tradition of his elders, and has never been made his own by 
the travail of fear and grief. 

None the less may there be many a grievous error, many a deep- 
lying fallacy, in the process of that search. I will name two. 

There are those who, as soon as a doubt enters, cease instantly to 
pray. They count it an insincerity to call upon Him in whom they 
are not certain that they shall always continue to believe. The 
memorable words, " When they saw Him they worshipped Him, but 
some doubted," are misread by them or disregarded. They do not see 
that to cease to worship is not to doubt, but to cease to doubt. It is 
to have settled the very question which they profess to be pondering. 
If there be a word of truth in the Gospel, the way of faith is the way 
of prayer, and the man who has ceased to call upon the God of his 
life is. no longer so much as an inquirer whether that God has 
spoken to us in His Son. 

There are some questions — ^let who will mock the saying — ^wluch it 
is treason to humanity to open. Of such sort is the question of 
worship. The question, in other words, whether I am to myself 
sufficient or insufficient — ^whether I am to my own being the head 
and front, the source and spring, or certainly, and at all. costs, an 
inferior, a dependent, a subject thing — ^impotent over the beginning, 
im.potent over the .continuance, impotent over the ending of this 
unknown something which I call the life. If I knew not one word of 

Humiliiy of Mind in the Study of Divine Truth. 117 

the nature, or the character, or the will of the Power above me, the 
recognition of dependence, which is the essence of worship, would 
equaDy be my necessity, equally my duty. Better kneel to an 
unknown Grod than kneel to nothing and to no one ! 

To kneel is the beauty and glory, to kneel is the truth and the hope, 
of the humanity that knows itself. Let the ciy go forth even into the 
darkness — ^it shall " calm and hush," it shall ** behave and quiet," the 
soul that would inquire, the soul that would know. ** The j 
worshipped " although — ^yea, " they worshipped " because — '* they 

Yet one other thing. Many, when the faith is shaken, count it an 
insmcerity to listen to any evidence but what they call the logical 
They resent it as almost a fraud put upon them if any one offers the 
moral beauty of the (Gospel, or the spiritual satisfaction to be found in 
it. or the cumulative force of recorded effects and consequences of 
Iielieviog, as furnishing, alone or altogether, any argument at all in 
iiehalf of the Bevelation of Jesus Christ. Intellect alone, cold, hard, 
^Ivi intellect, must be the tribunal of truth. If mathematical 
demonstration is impossible, then, for them, it shall be impossible to 
Wlieve. That conviction which the first Christian doubter made to 
Imug upon the sight and upon the touch they suspend upon the 
cngenqr of the Christian syllogism as it stands for the nineteenth age. 

We have entered our protest against this splitting and parcelling of 
tiie being. The man is one, and but one. These separate personalities 
of mind and heart, of intellect and affection — ^who gave them their 
authority and their superscription ? If God speaks. He will speak — 
l)e sure — ^to the whole man. God is one, and the man is one ; — ^as such 
will he be dealt with, as such he must make reply. Intellect, and 
heart, and conscience ; the power to judge, the power to admire, the 
[K)wer to adore ; the instinct of truth, the instinct of good, and the 
iustinct of beauty — all these things must march as one towards the 
investigation of Uie Divine ; the thing which we believe must be the 
f^tisfaction of them all, and each one must contribute its quota to the 
evidence and its voice to the verdict. 

The counsel of the text is the counsel of wisdom when it makes 
reverence, humility, the condition of all knowledge that is worth the 
oame. It is quite possible, by a little mismanagement, by a little 
^I^oiling of the soul, to make the spiritual life intolerable. We may so 
educate and so discipline our own soul as that health shall be the 

t r8 Jfathiliff of Mind tn the Study of Divine TrsUh. 

rewaid. We may da the cdntspary. We may make oursehreB fools, 
idiots, sceptics, Atheists, if we will, to do so, and if ii^e take the way. 

Plain woids are the most suitable \o solemn snfaiieets: This htonble, 
this reverent estimate of onr position and relationships^ >till show itself 
^Tst of all in a wiUingniiBSS to attend to small dntiies^^to overlook 
•nothing as beneath notio^'-^to adapt ourselves to cizeamstances, 
mental as well aa^ provide(ntial*^to oondescend (as Sotiptjore says) to 
things* that aie ldwly*-to expect happiness in duty rather than in 
ficquisition^^'-to live the life set ns rather than to spread and stretdi 
ourselves into an imagined life beyond. This principle does ndt for- 
bid effort — does not discourage progress, does not depfess the 
endeavour to make the t^iy most of every talent, and to rin to any 
height of honest usefulness to which the powers given may be pros- 
pered by the blessing songht All these are, indeed, but the natuml 
exercises of the composed and laianquillised i^it. 

Nor is the •* retraining and quieting" spoken of ineonsisteiit with 
the utmost stmteh of inquity into the mysteries of nature, of humanity, 
of Grod. This, too, is fostered and strengthened byit GRie difference 
is here — ^that, while the man who ^ exeiViises himself in great matters " 
i9 apt first to isolafte, and then to idolise, intellect^^*^ imagine that 
mental processes alone can carry him into the deep things (if there 
1i& suicfh) of God Himself, etnd that wbatsoetter CAnnot be logically 
demonstrated cannot be cettlatinly true — the other; not because be is 
afraid to seek, not because he dreads the break-dowti of faith under 
the strain of realson, bttt because he remembers that the being 
which he possesses is a complex tMlig, and mnst not be dis- 
jointed and taken to pieces in the very use of it for the 
highest of all- conceivable purposes, the study of trath and 
4if Gkid, summons all and each part of himseilf to accompany the 
march, and refUses to regserd that as proved, ot thail as dis- 
|>roved, which (at most) is so by one piece or one bit of him. 
Beason, and conscience, and heart, aind soul tbo, shall all enter into 
the search, and that which sfttisfles not each and aH of these shall 
not be, for him, either truth, or religion, ot heaven, or God. * Know- 
ledge pnfiKtb up^it is love which edifieth." ''If any man tidnk 
that he knoweth any thing, he knoweth nothing yet as he ooght to 
know. But if any man love God, the same knoweth," or (let me 
leather say) — fbr after all, Divfaie knowledge, to be i^, most be 
Ather receptive than originative—'' the same is known of G^od." 

The Tears of Jesus over Uie Impenitent 1 19 

''I have calmed and huflted my soul, as a cliild weaned dt hiA 
mother." Tiy tliis self-discipline, doubters in this congregation. 
Set yourselves huinble duties. live mucli in acts of charity — 
domestic, social, philanthropic. Enter into lives pinched by poverty. 
Help boys and young meli t6 grapple with the stern realities of want, 
of n^lect, of solitude, oit temptation. Intellectual difficulties must 
take rank after these ! Go back to ikdr pondering a more sympathetic, 
and therefore a wiser, man. See whether soriie of them have not been 
solved by the mere contact! Is not this GrOspel which looked so 
superfluous in the tiieatre and the ball-room — ^so assailable by sap 
or storm, in the study or the lecture-room-— is it not indeed the exact 
appliance, the very panacea, when it is brought face to face witb 
sorrow, with bereavement, witb pain, with death ? Then ask your- 
self—ask the whole of yourself — ^understanding, heart, conscience, 
soul — whether the thing so appropriatcy so strong, so beautiful, so 
satisfying may not, were it but for that reason, be true. 

i* ■ J » • I I il iTI 

%\t ^laxs xrf Jcstts joixtr %% Jmptnltettt. 

t«<lA ^ 

An Argument and an Appeal, 

"And when He was come near, He beheld the city, and wept over it, saying : 
'If thou had^ known, even thou at least in this thy day, the things which belong 
unto thy peace !~Bat now are they hid from thine eyes,* *'— LuKJ xix. 41, 42. 

EVEEENT criticism of the statetntots of the Ke^ Testa- 
ment record is not a chatacteristic of this age. With the 
fearless, s^ttrchitig spirit of mquiiy, so estimable and so 
useful, there is not too much of that devout fueling which 
becomes tis when we tl^t of sacred matters, nor of that 
solemnity which should be manifest when we speak of Him whbS€{ 
life and death have become the greatest events of history. Thfe 
remark is not the expression of any fear that the faith repos6d in the 
tecord, or in the validity of the Sdviour's cldims, will be weakened by 
the rough treatanent of adverse critics. But it is made in somfe degree 

120 The Tears of Jesus over the Impenitent 

apologetically, and in order to remind 70a that we feel the import* 
ance of reverently considering such a subject as the one before us. 
even though our first remarks upon it may be misjudged. So muck 
do we value the results of bold, out-spoken conmient, that we 
should prize it even at the cost of much proper veneration. Happily, 
however,^ it is possible to combine the two ; and we are anxious not 
to lay ourselves open to a suspicion of irreverence, as we ask the 
questions which have probably arisen in the minds of sceptical 
thinkers ; as, for example, whether this readiness to weep does not 
reveal an absence of manly character — ^whether, at such an important 
moment, when surrounded by an excited and admiring crowd, these 
tears were not " sensational " — and whether, in view of the sufTering 
and death which He knew awaited Him in Jerusalem, the weeping 
was not a selfish one. If these questions be answered negatively, it 
may be further asked why He should weep over the rejection of 
Himself, which was, after all, an important element in the fulfilment 
of His mission — and, further, why He should weep over a reprobate 

Let us consider these questions in the order in which we have 
stated them. 

There is only one previous mention of our Lord having wept. 
That was at the grave of Lazarus^ — a weeping which reveals the 
sympathy of His human nature with the sorrow of the mourners,, 
even when He knew that by His own word the cause of their grief 
would be removed, as the restored friend and brother came forth 
alive again. He wept compassionately with those that wept, and 
perhaps with a profounder thought of death as the penalty of sin, the 
enemy whose power He had come to break. At that natural emotion 
few objectors make demur ; for in th^ presence of Death, and amid 
those who sorrow over bereavement, even tJie stoutest hearts yields, 
and the love and sympathy displayed in such tears are not beneath 
the wisest, the noblest, and the sternest manhood. Yet such an 
opinion, as related to Jesus, has not always been admitted in the 
reverent thought of Him which men have desired to hold. In the 
early church there were those who wished to omit these two passages 
from the record, under the supposition that it w&s inglorious in 
Christ to weep, so little insight had they into the quality of truest 
worth His tears displayed. Some of the bravest and greatest men 
mentioned in sacred and profane history have thus yielded to their 

The Tears of Jesus over the Impenitent 121 

emotion on occasions of deep and moving interest. Abraham, Joseph, 
David, Nehemiah, Peter, and others are spoken of in the Bible as 
having wept. History speaks of Julius Caesar, Brutus, Marcellus, 
and Wellington as having been moved to tears. As we reflect upon 
the circumstances of many of these displays of tenderness, we are 
constrained to acknowledge that they were proofs of truest greatness. 
These were not men who wept on any and every occasion, but men of 
strong character. We do not share the wish of the ancient Christians 
above referred to — ^that these traits of the human nature in our Lord 
had been hidden. We love Him for the sympathetic sorrow He 
showed. We feel that He was touched with feelings like our own, 
and was, therefore, the more fitted to be our Great High Priest. 

The occasion of His approach to the city does not, at first,, 
appear so natural for such a display of feeling. It looks more like 
mere sensationalism. We say this reverently in order to bring out 
oar point. Men have often sought effect by the indulgence of 
emotion which might have been restrained. That it was with no 
such intent that Christ now wept the sequel will show. His tears 
were wholly out of keeping with the occasion, viewed in the light of 
its external appearances. Those who surrounded Him with their 
festive greetings and glad hosannas must have been at a loss to 
account for this sudden display of feeling. Its effect upon them must 
have been strange, tliough no record is left of the way in which 
they r^arded it. A sudden turn in the road which leads over the 
Mount of Olives brings the city full in view, and so impressive is the 
sight, even now, that travellers testify to its power upon them. We 
aie all to some degree conscious of the imposing majesty and beauty 
of a la^ city when, from some neighbouring height, a sudden bend 
in the road reveals it to us. Let it be remembered that, as Jesus 
then beheld it, Jerusalem was in its glory. It was not a dingy, 
smoke-berimed city like those we see ; but large, beautiful for situa- 
tion, built in a style of the greatest magnificence — ^pinnacle and 
tower, gold and white, catching the gorgeous hues of the eastern sun 
—standing majestically upon the hills, wliich were environed by the 
rich luxurious valley through which Kedron flowed. For splendour 
and beauty it must have been no ordinary sight. Moreover, to Him 
it could not have been unfamiliar. Doubtless He had gazed upon it 
Qiany times, from the same spot, as it lay in outstretched magnifi- 
cence below. But now He looked upon it for the last time. Tliere 

122 The Teats of ^esus over the Impenitent. 

are times in our history when long fifiutnillai* scenes become strikingly 
impressive, and when they suddenly wake emotions which We Wonder 
that we have never felt before. He was not so elated with the 
transient greetings and praises of the crowd as to be carried away by 
them« His own deeper thoughts weighed with saddening influence 
upon His mind. Too fully was He occupied with the mission of His 
life to sufifer the joy of the throng to lift Him up even with a 
momentaty pride. And when the procession came to a halt in fiall 
view of the city — with no regard for their thoughts, but in the spon- 
taneous expression of His own — ^He gave utterance to the words 
before us. It was the outpouring of a long pent-up sorrow over the 
persistent rebellion of Israel against God. It was too deep, too 
peculiar an emotion for the bystanders to appreciate — an emotion 
wholly foreign to their minds. It was neither sentimental nor 
sensational, but was the outburst of the profound spiritual sorrow of 
the Man of Sorrows — ^irresistiWe — ^mighty in the compassion it 
showed — yet lost upon them, because at the time they were incapable 
of understanding it. 

Nor was it a selfish grief. These were not the tears of a timid 
apprehension of the suflFering that He knew lay before Him. He 
wept, not because He beheld the scene of His approaching trial and 
death — ^not because He foresaw that the hosanna of this band of friends 
Would soon be exchanged for the shout of derision, and the cry of 
'* Crucify Him ! ** which his enemies would raise — ^but because He sadly 
deplored the Wickedness of the people, and their opposition to the 
Kingdom of God, and because He foresaw what they little dreamed — 
how this glorious city, so majestic in its splendour, would become the 
acene of the most terrible devastations and sufiferings, and how, in 
less than fifty years, its glory would hAve passed away, so that, of the 
mighty edifices which were then the national pride, not one stone 
would be left upon another. It was the grief of generosity, not that 
of selfishness. Tlie shame and suffering, the bitterness of Btis "hour,** 
which was at hand — ^these were crowded out of His thoughts as 
matters which concerned Himself, by the compassionate sorrow with 
which He looked for the last time upon that " city of ten thousand 
memories " — ^that city of a proud, historic past — and felt that the 
turning-point in its prosperity had come, by reason of its persistent 
rejection of the love of God, and that ere long the eagles would be 
gathered together and Jerusalem would become a prey. 

The Tears of Jesus aver the Impenitent 123 

Bat nvhy should Jesus weep over a reprobate people^ especially 
vhea their conduct formed an important and, in one sense, necessary 
oondition for the fuUlment of His own mission ? It shows us how 
rdudaoMy He ffives the wicked ower to their /a^c-— how, in Him* 
vengeance for the insult» He bore gare place to merciful regrets that 
they "wotdd have none o( Him'* — ^regrets at their loss of the 
''peace" He pr<^ied — and not regrets at the denial of His own 
honour and glory* Not Himself, but the people — not His shame, but 
their loss-^^woke His pity and drew forth His tears. Though He 
knew from the bf^nning how cruelly they would reject Him, and 
thoi^h He came as. the Sacrifice for sin> He could not contemplate 
their wilful hardness of heart, and the dreadful use of their free 
agency in aU tliis, without sorrowing over the loss which they as yet 
Imew not, and the trouUes which were soon to overtake them. 
Though they haled Him, He loved them still, and the prospect of 
their sufferings amd of their humiliation, even at the moment of His 
immediate anticipation of His own, caused Him, ''when He was 
come near and beheld the city, to weep over it, saying, 'If thou 
hadst known, even thou at least in this thy day, the things which 
belong unfto thy peace !-*-But now are they hid from thine eyes ! * ** 

It is a remarkable utterance^ which, whilst it leaves no ground for 
reasonable doubt with regard to the feelings which caused Jesus to 
weep, presents some thoughts which are usefully susceptible of a 
modem application. Are not those to whom Christ is now preached, 
hnt who, whikt they hear, take no practical heed, partakers of that 
rejection of Him of which these Jews were guilty ? What are the 
things which make for their peace ? Bepentance and faith. Bepent- 
aace is not, in itself, a state of peace ; it is the trouble of the heart 
over the sins th»t are past But there is no peace without it. It 
does AOt remove condemnation ; it is no expiation of guilt Though 
in all the iHttemess* of contrition we mourn for sin, we have not peace 
by contrition akme. Faith in Christ as our Saviour must be added 
to it The lack <rf these two things — repentance and faitli — makes 
the condition of many who hear the Gospel to-day worse than that of 
the Jews of old. Familiarity with the truth does not. ensure the 
Teceptien of it To-day there are thousands who have knowledge 
•enough, but whose knowledge is merely educational or contemplative. 
They can discuss intricate questions concerning Christ and His work, 
but they have not that experimental knowledge of Him which consti- 
tutes the peace of the children of God. 

J 24 ^^^ Tears of Jesus ever the Impenitent. 

If Jerusalem had known the things which belonged to its 
and it might have known them — ^what a different history it would 
have had ! Jesus wept as, with prophetic vision. He saw Hie 
calamities which were to befal it His pity was uttered upon the 
outermost bounds of mercy. Whilst opportunity lingered, and the 
chances of amendment remained, the appeals of the Divine love did 
not sink into silence. But wilful ignorance knew not the awful 
destiny to which it hastened. Even in the destruction of His enemies 
our Loid manifests no anticipatory pleasure. Begretfully He sees 
the day of mercy close upon those who will not avail themselve»^ 

of it. " If thou hadst known in this thy day ! " The sentence 

is incomplete. It stands as a mournful, broken ejaculation, showing 
that even then the lingering desire for postponement dwelt in His 
loving heart, and tliat at that last moment outraged goodness was 
loth to see the wicked seal their doom. So now, in this season of 
grace, as the messages of the Gospel are spumed, and as sinners 
harden their hearts in sin. He looks tearfully upon them, and wishes 
that He might gather them to Himself. 

After a pause, in which He struggled with His emotion. He said : 
" But now are they hid from thine eyes." What were hidden ? Not 
only the salvation they might have found, but also the doom that was 
impending. The spiritual blindness of the impenitent hides alike the 
way of escape and the approach of destruction. 

To-day Christ looks upon us. Unseen, He is in our midst. We 
do not doubt this, though we are slow to realise it. He knows 
whether we reciprocate or reject His love. And whilst we linger, 
unwilling to decide — ^toying with the world — setting our heart on the 
pleasures of life — ^He looks pityingly upon us, and seeks, by the 
constant proclamation of His grace, to woo us to Himself. Through 
all our years He has watched us, and borne patiently with our 
ingratitude and our sin. Does He not speak to us of long-neglected 
privileges and of oft-spumed overtures of mercy ? StUl He waits to 
be gracious. By the pity that wept over the impenitent — ^by the 
cross which wrought salvation — ^He pleads with us now. Let us turn 
to Him. €k>d forbid that the day of grace should be wasted, and that 
the/a< should have to be pronounced: " Now are these things hid 
from your eyes ! " Oxorge Barker. 


%n #Ib H^ttttx fr0m % S^itk-xoom jrf S^tokes Croft 

College, §rist0l 

Bristol, April 4th, 18—. 
Y D£AB FRIEND,— I was pleased to receive your letter this 
morning, and am also pleased to find myself able to frame some 
sort of a reply. I am decidedly better, and seem, by Qod's bless- 
ing, to be on the way to recovery. I am, however, still very feeble. 
You will perceive from my writing how violently my hand 
trembles ; and my mind is almost as agitated as my body. Any thought, even 
the most trivial, is a burden which it is equally difficult to throw off and to bear. 
^Vertheless, I feel so tired of this physical and mental inactivity, that I will 
fitrnggle to triumph over my weakness. 

My solitude became tiresome after a few days. I found myself totally banished 
from the world — an exile, with many near whose sympathy was, I doubt not, very 
strong, but the expression of which I was not allowed to hear. Many a time I 
sighed for liberty. I felt especially dull on the Sabbath. It was the second 
I^'s^y on which I was confined to the house, and, moreover, was the day set 

apart for the commemoration of the Saviour's love. Mr. had baptized ten 

perMns on the previous Thursday evening, who were then to be received into the 
chuieL What made me feel my absence the more keenly was that on two previous 
communion-days I had been engaged in preaching. Still the day did not pass 
without some spiritual improvement. During the morning and afternoon I 
occupied myself in reading the Gospel of Mark, and was so struck with the allu- 
sions to the multitude following Jesus and listening with delight to His instruc- 
tions that in the evening I tried to frame a sermon on the text : '< The common 
people heard Him gladly " ; and I hope some day to be able to finish and 
preach it 

1 feel deeply indebted to yon, dear friend, for the sympathy and counsel your 
letter contains. I am afraid I have not profited as I might have done by this 
siBiction. I have found a difficulty, as I do generally, in fixing my mind upon 
sijfie//. I feel and I refiect, sometimes deeply ; but it is upon the state of the 
church and the world, rather than upon my own condition, failings, and wants. 
Beligion is the theme of my thoughts ; but it is not my religion, or my want of 
it, that engages my strictest attention. I get absorbed in the present aspect of 
things in general I lament the sad want of vitality in the church. I deplore 
the deficiency of power and success in the ministry of the Ck)8peL I aspire to 
some participation in the great movements of the day. I determine to set my 
face in stem antagonism to the formalism and bigotry by which, I fear, professing 

126 An Old Letter from the Sick-^oom of Stokes Croft College. 

ChristianB are too generally characterised. But I do not watch for the manifesta- 
tions of this formalism, bigotry, and spiritual sluggishness which I have no doubt 
my own life affords. I &ncy that I act, not as an individual conscious of his own 
personal responsibility to Gk)d, but as a memh^, of fome society, or as a Mend tO' 
some reformer, whose character, talents, and aims I admire. I am seldom 
prompted, or inclined, to examine myself. This, I suspect, is my great {alHng* 
I struggle against it ; but in a few minutes I have roved from my own heart to 
himum nature ot to the revolutions on the continent. Yet I hope my afliotion 
has been somewhat beneficial to me in this respect I have occasionally oaught 
glimpses of my own soul — ^have been amazed at its deformities, and have luided 
that I could nevertheless discern here and there the impress of Divine guace. I 
have wanted to become oo/mcwm that I was immortal — ^have felt that my views 
were too commonly bounded by time, and that even my brightest and most confi- 
dent hopes were greatly too contracted. My faith has struggled to free itself from the 
fetters with which flesh and sense were encumbering it. For a short season, I 
revelled in the glories of eternity. The world had receded. I was worshipping 
in the sanctuary of my own soul. My immortality became a real, conscious: 
possession. Heaven had descended to earth. Qod graciously smiled upon me,, 
and that smile derived its sweetness from the promise it seemed designed to illus- 
trate, and was the more precious because its delicate reflections lingered after the 
full beatitude of its pleasure had departed. Yet, alas ! even the memory of it 
wasted away, and I soon found myself again to be an inhabitant of this fallen 
world 1 Oh, that I could dwell with God while mingling with men ! But the 
human is so depraved that it is indifferent to the proffered friendship of the 
Divine, and we are, by our own folly, doomed to a dull and wearisome existence^ 
whilst, were we wise, we might enjoy delights in comparison with which all mere 
earthly joy is bitter. Yes, indeed, it mutit be •* far better " to ** depart and be 
with Christ." Surely religion is a noble and Divine thing in this, that it enables 
one not only to die without fear, but to live with resignation. I often feel that onfr 
of its highest blessings is found in the fact that it reconciles one to this life, whilst it 
holds out such high promises of a better. May I drink more krgely of its spirit^ 
yield myself more fully to its control, aspire more ardently to its sanotity 1 

But I have wandered far and wide. You will conclude that I am better. I 
had hoped to get out a little to-day ; but as the weather is not very worm, I do 
not think I shall attempt to do so. My head warns me to close. Write soon to 
yours affectionately, * ♦ ♦ 



WITH much ado we sigh, " Thy will be done 
On earth, even as in heaven," and think 
How well it is for man to acquiesce 
So meekly in the Unseen Father's will. 

Oh, &ithle8S and unthinking heart I For back. 
In the beginning, ere the birth of Time, 
Infinite love and wisdom planned for thee, 
The brightest, noblest, best existence-scheme ; 
With sorrow as its conservative salt 
And conflict as its tonic stimulant. 

A half -reluctant *• Amen ! " toyest thou 1 

No ! No ! with all thy being's every force, 

Pray ardently in bold exultant strain — 

" On eaith, even as in heaven. Thy will be done I " 

L. M. D. 

^\lt €hdxon d Ministers.' 

HE Churches of the Congregational Order appear in this 
matter as might a traveller who, with able guidance, 
though not without much labour and sufiering, has 
pursued a long, wild road through swampy land, and now 
watches the wanderings of others. The history of that 
long march from the days of the apostles is not to be recounted here, 
even in slightest sketch. 

Bather mixed feelings possess our traveller as he looks around — 
thankfulness for quagmires escaped, and for the freedom he enjoys, 
though not of his own earning ; pitying wonder as he sees the wrong 
turnings which others take, with consequent sore struggles for foot' 
hold ; and some self-righteousness. So our people see the struggle of 

* The Editor willingly inserts this oommunication finom a gentleman who is 
well kapwn and highly esteemad in our denominatiosiy and who has given much 
ti^night to the subject. The article will serve to introduce tlie question to our 
readeiBy and a friendly, temperate discussion of it is invited. 

128 The Election of Ministers. 

."High" and "Low" and "Broad" church; the gyrations of 
Wesleyans in circuit; the Scotch endeavour to make the Kirk both 
■"Free " and " Established " in one ; and many other swayings of the 
Christian brigades, with a less friendly view of that priestly class — 
happily, by their own rule, not hereditary — ^who, with catlike tread, 
carry out unfairly our Lord's injunction, and double the serpent's 
quality at the expense of the dove. 

We are glad to feel the rock under our feet, the principle that each 
church \& entirely independent and self -governed, and has the right 
to appoint its own pastor and teacher — a grand, noble, and righteous 
position never to be yielded. 

But with the right comes the responsibility, and also the difficulty. 
The position of the minister is most solemn ; for this world, hard 
work and heavy burdens to be borne, and, in relation to eternity, 
9k burden altogether unbearable in mortal strength. He has to be 
Xhe personal friend of every one in the congregation — a man abreast 
of .the times with men, full of genial sympathy with the young, the 
resolver of doubts, the consoler in sorrow, the treasury of the sublimest 
iconfidences, the originator of all good things to be done, the real 
leader and guide, the former of character, the man on whose teaching 
and conduct hangs the weal or woe of souls for ever. 

The mode of electing a man for this momentous post is, according 
io Charles Williams, of Accrington, this : — ^" A chmxsh, the pastoral 
office in which is vacant, invites a student from one of the colleges, 
or any minister it may please, to preach for two or more Sabbatlis ; 
and if his ministrations are approved by the members, and they 
believe him to be, in character, capacity, and culture, suitable for 
the office, they elect him to be their pastor." 

The question of election to a pastoral charge concerns not only 
actual vacancies, but all the movements needful, or to be desired, for 
the welfare of both pastor and people. It appears from the JSaptid 
Handbook that there are reported in the United Kingdom in round 
numbers about a thousand more chapels in our denomination than 
there are churches to inhabit them, and an average of about seven 
hundred and fifty churches without pastors. This shows a very large 
and constant movement, which must increase with the growth of the 
churches. If it be asked what means of communication on this 
subject exists between the two thousand six hundred churches and 
the two thousand three hundred settled and unsettled x>astors, the 

TAe Election of Ministers. \i<^ 

answer most be that, of a general and acknowledged kind, there is 
absolutely nona 

How can a vacant church learn who is at liberty as pastor ? Or 
how can a pastor who feels that a change would be good for his 
church and himself find what churches are open ? Or, if the church 
or the man be heard of, how are the "character and capacity" of 
either to be discovered ? 

At a recent meeting of the Congregational Union the Bev. Alex. 
Hannay, the secretary, spoke of this matter as being a heavy pressure 
and burden, the responsibility of which he could not, and would not, 
take, and he urgently prayed the Union to take action upon it. Our 
own secretary, Mr. Sampson, feels it almost as strongly. The subject 
is brooding in men's minds, and, in the interest of the Lord's work^ 
and of both pastors and churches, calls for treatment. 
Whatever plan be proposed, certain conditions must be observed. 
There must not be even the smallest or n^ldest dictation, or pres- 
sure, or interference with the complete liberty and independence of 
tlie churches and of the pastors. 

The negotiating body must be representative of the whole denomi- 
nadon both pastors and people ; must be above the suspicion of unfair 
influence, lay or cleric, and also of local or personal bias; must 
possess the confidence of all, not as to honesty of purpose alone, but 
as to knowledge and wisdom. 

The body must be in communication with all colleges, unions, and 
assodations ; must have the courage to speak the truth, and such a 
solemn sense of duty towards God and man as shall enforce right- 

The mature experience of such a council would afford help and 
advice of the utmost value, not only as to pastoral election, but also 
as to the guidance of the churches through perilous circumstances 
and, in times of well-doing, to more efficient service. Not only would 
good work be thus done by means of such a council, but hundreds, 
of pastors, now condemned to labour in churches where their efforts, 
appear to be useless and their hopes are blighted, would find a way 
of escape, and churches deeming their pastors unsuitable might gain 
relief, without the distress and heart-soreness now so constantly 
attending upon, or preventing, removal. 
To young men of high character, earnestness, and ability the fear 

of being buried in a dead church is one of the most powerful reasons 

far ayoiding the.minia^. Urn fear groimdlessii^^ sndi 
a council to consult. 

Can soeh a couxucil be fonndl The CDnditions are seveie and tlie 
meoi scarce; I£ the Saptiat Union be really represeatotlYe of the 
'vriu>le denomintftion, or. as ncaiiy so aa poasiblet, it wcmld seam to be 
xeasonahle to elect the ooumal from ths^t assembly^ and by the full 
meeting of members and delegates. 

Thirteen members would be anfiScient; for, if the oooneil were too 
laige^ its confidential character would be lost^ and if too small there 
might be fear of personal inflneDoe. . 

It would be the duty of. the eonndl to fonn a register, in which 
should be found the name of every paator, with a record of his 
p;rogiess from the time of hia leaving college ; also a leoord of every 
church, with its financial pawer and membership. All public events 
affecting either would be esitered, together with aa much private 
information as might be necessary aad could be obtained* 

A vacant church would apply to the council for the names of a 
few suitable pastors. The register would contain particulars of that 
church, and of pastors at liberty. No pastor would be named for a 
church for which he was known to be unsuitable, and no church not 
honestly carrying out its financial arrangements could expect any 
pastor to be named without warning. Thits no interference with 
liberty of choice would be attempted The moveable pastor would 
be brought into communication with the vacant churchy and all sub> 
sequent progress would be independent of the oounciL Further 
detaU, and arrangements as td finances, might be left to the council 
when elected. T. Eadford Hope. 

Bt thb Latv Bbv; Clehbrt Bailhaohb. 
{CcwUnued from pa^c 86.) 

Numbers zvi. 48.— Thank Qod for holy bcavaiy 1 How it haa happened 
that the presence of a servant of God haa saved numbers from daatruotion ! 
This is the philosophy of the atonement of our blessed Lord. 

Numbers xviL 8. — Qoi caQ| and does, clothe dead things in matter ivith 
life ; and He can, and He does, fill dead hearts with love. Oh, that I 
might know more and more of "Hia quickening power ! 

Jfi0Nfter« xiz. lL«^D«tliii aff anomaly in Oocfs tmiveirse'. TSSA it the 
Dime poxpose ud ivork. I ted annihiktioti sanctioned nowhere. 

Numben zx. 28. — ^The priest dies, but the priesthood remains. (3od is 
indapendent of its alL The seid lluit simply aims at Ood's glory may 
sorely find some consolation in this even in disappointment, and nnder the 
'diie^line oi the Eather'ahand— -as Aazonwas. 

Joknh z. 27. — ^HappOy, it is posmble to know the Master's leadfaig ; bnt 
ti nrast be by pn^vfol thon^t, in sbgleness oi motite, atid purity 
of life. 

Psalm zzvii. 8. — ^This is the Divine order. God says, ^"Seek ye my 
Ikoe," aad then we seek. All true pmyer is the response of the spirit to 
His sppeaL Henee the certainty of the blessing that attends prayer. 

Mattkm xthr. 42* — 6od give me giaoe to see the harmony between 
Q&Cntiog trost and tmftHing watehfolness. 

Edrem iv. l.-^TTnbelief forfeits the rest of heaven bj^aod-by, and it 
mtkoi rest to be impossible here. Faith is rest. 

Eo9M ziv. 1.— All ruin is of man ; all restoration is of GhxL Wearei 
in a BensCi proprietots of our &Qlts only — a bad inheritance, from which 
the Lord deliver me f 

Jvde 24.— In Christ's keeping till the end, and for the blessed isstteif of 
eternity ! All praise, then, to SUm, and all consecration too I 

2 Oofinikiam ▼. l.*^oy and peace in life; hope sure and certain 
in desO. This is the inheritanoe of the samts. 

2 Garitakians vii. lO.^-^-May I ever know, when I know sorrow, that 
which strengthens holiness and works repentance— ^^orZv, in actual and 
msnifest effects. 

2 n'moAy iL 3. — ^Nothing of weakness in the ideal Christian life and 
chttaeter. Christianity essentially the training for men. 

Bcmant v. 21.— 4in and death ; righteousness and lifo. Not simply law 
ttd ooassqaence, but cause and effect I have no greater conception of 
life then holiness. 

Epketiam ii. 12. — ^Nearness to €(od as a personal friend/ The thought 
v iranclerfbl, and the estperience a perfect rset. 

ffdfrem vi. 12.--41ie tendency to slothAilness often springs ttdna dinp^ 
polotment; bvt feith and patience win the promises. 

Somam liL 1.— Sorely a reasonable sacrifice, and a great blesshig when 
^^ealiaed. Oodfs condescensioii in accepting it wonderfoL 

1 OorinMoM ix. 24, dto.~Bnn&ing, fighting, striving ; theeef are the 
igaxm of the spiritod life. And how true ! 

Jeremiah x. 23.— A blessed trutti that God directs our steps^ But Umb 
cor oonftdenoe must be holy and obedient. 

ICmntMm^v.^ 7.-^'' Walking by sight" would be despair; Bot^ oli' 
tlie resources of feith ! 

432 Devotianat Refledums. 

JSpkemoM T. 15, 16.— Hov die Taliie of time inereases as I get older ! 
I oannot begin life again ; bat the Lofd giye me grace day b j day to nse 
better what He giyee ! 

PBolm xzT. 2. — The man ie happy who has no enemies ; bat he is 
happier whom God defends. 

P9(dm zxTii. 11. — ^'^A plain path," yet bitter-*ao it seems to me (rfl- 
times — ^bat for the Lord's leadiog— anyhow, and anywhere. 

Bommu yi. 18. — ^I mast be a senrant somehow ; bat oh ! the diffiarenoe 
between the masters — sin and holiness. The one is shame and sorrow ; 
the other hononr and happiness. 

. Isaiah Ixv. 24.-»Prayer is noTor ohanoe-work. . God not only hears, bat 
even anticipatea^ and this is trae though He sometimes tries oar faith. 

Htbrewt yL 11. — *'The fall assaranoe of hope." How seldom enjoyed ! 
Many keep their hope like an imfledged bird in a cage ; it can only timidly 
peep, and can neither sing nor fly ! He who nses his hope well is as aman 
who carries a light in the dark, so that it may be helpful, not to himadf 
only, bat also to others. May God give to me the trae spirit of hope ! 
The prospect is boandless. Eyery earthly hope is held ander the limita- 
tion of death, and is therefore contingent, bat death fiilfils the hope of the 

Hdrewa iv. 9. — ^How soothingly this word ''rest'' falls apon one's spirit, 
teaching it as with an infinite caka ! Few ideas in this busy, sinful, tearful 
world are so cherished as this sweet idea of rest How litUe is it realised ! 
Often the external appearance of repose oorers hidden convulsions of 
feeling. The grandest offer of Christianity is the offer of rest — ^rest here 
and rest hereafter. Faith is the acceptance of the offer, so '' we who have 
believed do enter into rest." 

1 Peter i. 14.— ." Obedient children.'' We ought always to be in a 
condition to obey the Divine will lovingly and cheeriully ] but alas ! we 
are not 1 What shall we do 1 Bomain inactive % Ko. We must che^ 
humbly and without enthusiasm perhaps, but still obey. Obedience may 
be real even when it is weak ; and if real, God will accept it. And the 
effort is good. How often have we began to pray when we felt that our 
hearts were harder than a rook; yet God has touched fhem, and living 
waters of joy have refireshed us. How often have we preached, or visited, 
or done some Gunstian work with the feeling of utter unfitness, and yet 
the blessing has come. " Wist ye not that I must be about my Father's 
business)" This was the Mast^s watchword. Mayitbeminel 

MaUhew XV. 27. — ^What was the secret rf this woman's invincible yet 
hnmble courage) What was the principle whioh helped her to bear her 
conflict, and to win her victory) . It was just that which inspired all the 
heroiodeedaof which the BiUe gives us the record. liwuFaiik. A higher 

Devotional Reflections. 133 

bleBimg thaa she sought is bebce %$; not the sftving of a mere phyrioal 
axistence, but the salTation of the soul. Do we want, it f If we do, let us 
cherish this woman's ardour, humOiiy, and trostfulness. Happily, they live 
who only eat, as it were, of the orombs which fidl from the Master's table ; 
bat we may partake of the fall Caast if we wilL. 

MaJUhew zi 28.—'' Weaiy and heavy laden.*' Such is the aspeot in whloh 
the meek and lowly One viewed the world, and which led BKm to offer to 
it His own Divine Best. ^ Weary and heavy laden." It wu not ahoay% 
to. There is a bright, though brief, page in Ood's history of the world In 
which it is shown to us as peaceful and glad. He Himself had pronounced 
it " good," and that one word declared its happiness to be great beyond all 
oar dreams of the golden age. There was no sin on the earth then, and 
man could commune with God in all the holy confidence of a kindred 
ipirit God did not inUiid the sad change. It may be thankfully added 
that as it was not always so in the past, neither will it be always so in the 
fature. The Gospel is the word of Christ, and His word is the word of 
net for the weary. Let the '' weary and heavy laden " world '' come " to 
Him, and its burden shall be rolled away, and it shall be weary no longer ; 
for '^ He is able to save even to the uttermost." 

PpUm czlvii. 3. — ^A fad, and alas 1 not false, aspect of human life, but 
happily associated with a cheering announcement of Divine help. How 
many broken hearts and wounded spirits there are in the world ! These 
were real sorrows in the Psalmist's days, and they are real sorrows now. 
Bat God works to remove ,all this misery, works to heal and to bless. 
Howt And why! Is not the world's sorrow the outgrowth of its sint 
Troly. And so all God's favour is the gift of His sovereign love, a love 
made available to us in harmony with His righteousness. And so it is in 
Him who bore our sins and carried our sorrows that the Psalmist's 
beautifttl words are fulfilled. 

AeU i. 11. — Ah ! it is possible to look heavenward wrongly i We do so, 
if we crave back the blessings which Gk>d has withdrawn thither ; for He 
koowa why they have been taken away, and we must wait patiently until 
we are permitted to follow them. We do so when we too eagerly pry into 
edssUal mysteries ; for what God has not revealed we should be content to 
leave unknown, and when we get to heaven we shall have the revelation 
we bng for. We do so if we give way to any impatience to be there; for, 
though to be with Christ is Cur hotter, yet the spirit that best fits us for 
His presence and companionship is a cheerful acquiescence in His will. 
We do so when, in the indulgence of our dreams of heaven and our 
longings for it, we neglect the work which God has given us to do on 
earth, and the opfortunities for which are so fost fleeting away. 



8¥0DlEft m THS lilFE OF GbRIBT. Bj 

'&6 Rev. A. M. Fairbaim, I).D.y 

•^VindplLL of Airedale OoII^^ Brad< 
ford. Hodder & Stoughton. 
9bb QBtamL •Sevan Lectmee by 

rSoBMt KaTiSk. Twnakted frfoi 

«ttie .Ilwiich9 by the JUt. X. J. 

.Dospx^. .T.& T.Clark. 
I?E Inc4BN4lTB Sayiohb. <A Life. of 

Jeens Chriat. By the Rev. W. R. 

Nicoll, M.A., Kelao. T.& T.Clark. 
Wb aie fast discovering the neceadty 
ef itpproadiing -the great qnertion of 
fbelnith ef our religion in a^manuir 
twy 'differemt ftom that whsch fonnerly 
pvevsiled. The jcookrofvcisy nmw toniB 
mainly on the Penoni Chaiacter, Tenck* 
ing^ and Woi^ of Christ Syatwas.of 
theology, received or rejected, do jwt 
now constitiite the starting-points of 
argument The special object at present 
is to search out and to verify facts, as 
tiiey inhere in^ and gather aronnd, 
lEm to whom our Mth is historically 
tiMed. Christ's «im question;' "What 
thsBk ye of Christ l^ia move than«var 
Mt to be priffiaiiy and ^imdamental ; 
aod it comes .before us to-day with so 
augmented an emphasis as to isbow 
that everything of most importance to 
man is felt to depend upon the answer. 
Hie old metaphysical method of dealing 
wHh this crucial question is rapidly 
dreppisg out df view, and it beeomaa 
move wid mesa "every year a queation 
of fiiel, to be eolved .only by a .pedna* 
taking «nd lewrant appaal toJustaoy* 
This involvesy of oouis^ an ini^ujqr 
i;ato the historical value of the saored 
r^^rds, and especially into that of the 
four gOFpels. Cridcism is still busy with 
these ; but we are happy to note that the 
more advanced, minute, and conscien- 
tious the scholanOiip whidi is applied; to 


them, the more firmly is their essential 
integrity -established. The Rationalists 
of various schools have used their 
ingenuity to the utmoat to point out 
fetal flaws in 'them*; but they have 
faikd, aaid tbair &iliae Ibeeomea mora 
appaient with^vity aamr isnaatigatioiL. 
They cannot affoid to treat theae records 
aa they treat all other history ; their 
a jmcn denial of all supematuralism 
precludes that possibility. Happily 
there are xoany scholars in every 
respect as accomplished as themselves 
to whom Ihe aupeniaturaliam of the 
goapela ia no bogbear, and who an,, 
therefore, free to teat tbor historic 
«TedibiHty without pr^udiee. Be* 
aaaxchesofihiahigktt order invariably 
register their results on the side of 

Dr. Faifbaizn gives evidence in every 
part of his invaluable work, '' Studies- 
in the Life of Christ," of a mind which 
nothing but truth can satisfy, and 
which posaeaaes the native qoalifica* 
tiona and the educational aoquiremeiitSp 
best^dted lor ascertaining it with all 
the inteUectoal eertaialy poasibla to* 
man. He is no merefy conventional 
or uncultured thinker. '^ Orthodoxy' 
and "heterodoxy" are words which 
wield no warping influence over his- 
investigations. There is quite enough 
in the past history of Christianity, and 
in the hold it hae at 1^ present time 
upon the. atrangeat and moat anlighlenad 
.zacaa«f mankind, to fleoose Soar it that 
devont respect from hdm whieh is its 
dne^ hut hia mind is still open 
to facts with all their intrinsic aJO^ 
relative significance, whatever the 
form they may assimie, or the source 
from which they may come. Thus he 
takes iSie^onr goapela aa, in all the main 



ke knomr^Ait^tlie best modem crifeiciiBi 
is obfigod'to aoeiedit them im ^teving 
that ohwartrr ; end this b«mg "SO, hm 
objett is to -aaoertain mhH A/am ki»- 
tariMteaeh, m ekeer nsttcr of &et, 
coBocnuBg the Dmne VmutSM of cur 
&i&. LetitmotteiupposedylMvrever, 
that he adTRBeaB-to this gnat invwtH 
gation as a aeie hand analyst^^r idia- 
seetor. We arernet mWted to wJteh a 
let of enel e3i^)eri]neat8 in yiviseetion. 
Onraa&or has not left his moxal^enBe, 
his imaginatioDy and his heart behmd 
him. While his critioal faddtynwer 
ibnaben, the whole vokuae t^lem with 
religioiis fervour, and the ^leader in- 
itbietiTely feeia that he is fbUowingia 
thinker who is eixiiaently > capable of 

Dr. Fairbaim'ataHs his inqairywHh 
a stafenient of the main &ete -sahctang 
totheknd and the -age in ^trhiehy-and 
the peoj^ axaofngat whom, ' Chnst mbo 
woadzouaiy figured, 'and conehaBvefy 
shows that these are totally inadeqoale 
to aecoant for the peculiar position fie 
affiomedand the pecnliar inflnenee :He 
has wielded npon the religiow thought 
and hfe of ^e weorld. The solution is 
to be finmd only in that naniquenefla of 
penonality, and dnuncter, -and oocpe- 
rie&oe whieh the go^els, with «ii6ii 
ntlefls and beantif ul simplicity, ascribe 
to Him. The deeper elements of fils 
life are then tzaced, with eonscieatkas 
care and dear diseemment, ^frem His 
birth in Bethlehem, through His 
childhood and yooth, to maahood ; 
in His relation to John the Baptist, 
in His lenqrtatiQB, in His first teach- 
ing concerning ^ the Kingdem of 
heareD,'' in His relation to the rfizst 
disciplis, in Hia earlier^mirasltts, inthe 
attitode tvmods Him of -the Jawii^ 
people, in 'the ateadily iatoiaifying 

hostility of the Senbes and Pharisees, 
in the deepening shadow of the tragic 
eDdwhich'Waa inavitaHe, in the policy 
whiih enabled' the chief priests to oom« 
pass -His death, in the motiyea which 
pranq^ted Jndaa to lend himself to t&eir 
nefarious pmpose, in the Biigaaioas.<an- 
scrapakasaess with whieh they oon- 
qswaed- the m h ida a ioe of Pilate to hand 
Him over to the exeoationers, in His 
nannar (as indicated by His ntterancae) 
on &e Gross, and in His tmostentatioiis, 
bat nnqoestionable and triomphant, 
lew u ae cti cn from the dead. These 
aabjeets are all treated with rematkable 
insight'iaad power in eighteen ehaptais, 
which may £urly rank with the bast 
idigioas Htaiatare of oar limea. The 
style has same pecoliarities, tmd >ia 
eertainly ^annMtianes defieieBt in the 
^egaace and aise which most parts df 
tiie book display. Bat the langaageis 
geaemUy eloqa^t^withont ledvndanca; 
and there is the presence, in every pc^e, 
of a keen, steady,' clear-sighted intelleet 
watking in harmony with a great| 
strong, ardent, bat well- disciplined, 
CSiristian souL The work is not 
loraaally apologetic, bat it coastitotes, 
in its own way, one of the most efficient 
argaments for Ghristiamty ever issued. 
We regret that oar space will not allow 
tis to qoote. We may, perhaps, have 
that pieasore shortly. The author tdls 
■as tiiat thesfe ''fitadies " " were ori^- 
ally 'prepared 'as a eeries of Sanday- 
evening disconrses while he was a min- 
ister in Aberdeen." Happy the people 
who have saeh a teacher, and who 
are able to appreciate him. He pto- 
mises, if i^»red, to produce another 
work on the same great history which 
ahall deal with it in ''a more critical 
and comprehensive spirit, eq>ecially in 
its relation to contemporary history, 
and in its action, through the apostles 



and the Church, on the ereadon of 
Chiifltianitj." That work will be wel- 
come, and the sooner we are £Btvouied 
with it the moxe gratified we shall be. 

The second of the three works before 
H8 is similar in its aim to that of Dr. 
FairBaim, but entirely different in its 
method. The author troly observes : 
*^ The question proposed eighteen years 
ago, first in Palestine, then in the 
Eoman empire : ' What must be 
thought of Christ 1' — ^this question is 
aiow asked all over the world. It is 
eagerly discussed in the various oountnes 
•f Europe ; it is presented to the 
Brahmins of India, on the banks of the 
Ganges, and on the slopes of the 
Himalayas ; it reaches the ears of those 
who inhabit the tropics, as also of the 
dwellers by the Northern seas, and it 
is a subject of much thought in the 
most distant isles of the ocean. It is 
no longer in the nanow circle of Pales- 
tine only, or in the vaster circle of the 
Eoman empire, but in the whole world, 
that Christ might ask to-day : ' Whom 
fiay the people that I am ? ' " Christen- 
dom answers this question for itsell 
It asserts the Divine mission of Jesus. 
*^ However opposed the various churches 
may be to each other, they are agreed 
on this." They are '^ placed on divers 
points of a circumference. But these 
points, even the most opposite, are the 
extremities of rays which all tenninate 
at the same centre ; that centre is 
Christ, the work of Qod in Christ." 
The question is then "disengaged from 
every confessional element,^' ^^from 
all special dogmatics," and from 
''all scientific researches relative 
to textual criticism." Moreover, 
the ''study will not be limited 
(0 facts contained in the books of the 
New Testament ; far from that, I intend 
to use facts which have occurred in the 

course of eighteen centuries, ar'l eon- 
temporaiy fiscts which, every one can 
test without the aid of the researches of 
MtNUiii." Facts are recorded in the New 
Testament "which cannot be denied 
without denying all history." Deny 
" the special presence of God in Christ, 
and then every supernatural eleniexit 
must be removed from the text" Admit 
that presence of God in Him, and 
"then the supernatural elements con- 
tained in the text will occasion no 
difficulty." Hbtorically, Christ comes 
before us as a Saviour, in the lai^^ 
sense of that term. " Salvation is de- 
liverance from evil under all its form^ 
Without separating what should remain 
united, one may yet distJngiiish divers 
elements in the general idea of a de- 
liverance. We shall study the work of 
Christ in its relations with the re- 
searches of reason (Christ the TeadierX 
with the snfferingp of the heart (Christ 
the ComforterX with the troubles of the 
conscience (Christ the Redeemer), with 
the course of society (Christ the Le}*is- 
lator). After that, we shall fix our 
attention on the power which He \\sa 
manifested in all respects (Christ the 
Lord). After having collected aU tiie 
(2aia, we shall seek the best explanation 
of them— or, to speak more correctly, I 
shall submit to your notice the solution 
which I am here to defend, that of 
Christendom — ^that is to say, that in 
Jesus of Nazareth, become the Christ, a 
work of God has been accomplished for 
the salvation of the world." 

Such is the author's plan ; and he 
has executed it with a discrimination 
and a skill, with a comprehensivenesB 
and an accuracy, which give to his 
argument very much of the cogency 
of a demonstration. As we read on, we 
become more and more impressed with 
the conviction that for a man, with the 



facts before hiniy to deny the Divine 
authority of Christianity is for him to 
inflict an outrage upon his common 
senae. Veiy impresaiye is the closing 
aj)peal: — 

*'I& our oomplefcely Chritiiaii dvUba- 
tton the fMlhfnl diMlpkaof €9ixial who 
pnelue the iailh tiksy profen will always 
be oonapiimoiu. Will yoa make the 
ittempi? Ba ime GhrisUana ; endMEVonr 
to be eomplefte Obriatiaiui Bo not 
iiitarfera in the atrif ee of passion, in the 
ooafliota of Intereafc and of parties, save 
to rapiesent, as far aa in yoa lies, the 
right, the josi, the irae. Toa will he 
thooght an inoonvenient innovator, per- 
hipi a fooL Bat this will only he hecanse 
naoy men who talk of progress and of 
novelty do not deaire a novelty whfoh 
bumbles them and a progress whioh oon- 
eeaiBs them. Marsh 00, however, with 
firm etsp ! In the measure in whidh you 
will Nsliae the love of Christ yoa will be 
one of the grains of the salt of the earth, 
tbosgh it be the least ; one of therays, be it 
tbe f ebtest, of the eternal light. Yoa 
will enooonter g re at obstaolee from with* 
OBt» greater atiU in the miseries of your 
own satore, bat be not disooaraged. Do 
oofc forget that the moral life is a oombat, 
■od that one of the great laws of the 
■piritnal order is that we most reach 
nooeee through defeat, and pass through 
humiliation to glory. Under the govern- 
Btat of Providenoe, the world ends by 
foUowing that whioh it begins by rejeot- 
iog. The Greeks put Soorates to death, 
tbeandssd statues to his glory. By the 
beads of the Jews, humanity nailed 
Jwss to the tree ; then, at theoaU of a 
fov fiehsHMn and of a tent-maker, it 
Nlenti and follows Him." 

Mr. NicoQ's work is '* an attempt to 
sanate in a fK^uiar fonn the chief 
events in the life of our Lord, and to 
^ow how these bear on the doctzines of 
the Incarnation and the Atonement. 
The truth of the history as contained 

in the four gospels is assumed, and 
cntical questions are avoided, or hut 
lightly touched.'' These words from 
the preface describe the character of the 
volume with sufficient correctiiesH. It 
comprises twenty-three pulpit dis- 
courses, in which the life of the Saviour 
is rapidly sketched, and its doctrinal 
and practical teaching develoi)ed. Evan- 
gelical in tone, compact in thou^it, 
clear in style, and devout in spirit, with 
no special originality of conception, it 
will, no doubt, be read both with in- 
terest and with profit Many, we 
imagine, will welcome it for quiet 
perusal on the Lord's-day. 

Sermons. By Eugene Beisier, of Paris. 
Translated from the French. Dicken- 
son, 89, Farringdon Street. 
The femie of this great preacher is not 
new, neither is it confined to Paris or 
to France. He has been recognised 
throughout Christendom for several 
years past as one of the leading pulpit 
orators of his day, able to grapple man- 
fully with unbelief on the one hand 
and with superstition on the other, 
thoroughly penetrated and possessed by 
the true spirit of Evangelical Protes- 
tantism. This account of him will not 
be 8uppose<l to imply that he is a man 
whose views are contracted and whose 
theology is cramped. We find in him 
no sign of unfairness or of a want of 
charity towards those from whom he is 
compelled to differ. He can speak of 
them, and can address himself to them, 
with all proper respect and honour. 
But he has his own message to deliver^ 
and he delivers it Mthfully because 
he believes it to be amessage from God 
His fearlessness, however, never forgets 
to clothe itself in winning forms, and 
we judge that it must be a Inxuiy of 
no ordinary kind to sit beneath the 


spell of hu eloqueneey which has « 
brightaesB that does not dazzle, an 
oxnateneee whieh does not divert atten- 
tion from the main sal^eet in hand, « 
senonanesB whieh is always impraoBve, 
and an aim whieh points steadily and 
stcaight to its nuuk. Of coaxse, the 
cast of thought, of sentiment, and of 
expression is French ; bat this is to os 
an additional attaetton. We cmmmend 
to oorieadeEB the excellent teanshitien 
of twenty-thxee of M. JSenier's sermcma 
siqvplied ^hy Mi. Dickenson, with the 
amuanee that ihey will be read wil^ 
avidity, and that the pemaal of them 
will be attended with mucli spintnal 

Tax Txachbb'b Btobkhouse. A Maga- 
zine for Sunday • School Teachers. 
YolY. 188a Elliot Stock. 
This volume is .lightly named, and we 
hope that it has enjoyed already a wide 
popnlarity amon^rt the class of Ghfis- 
tian workets for whom it has been pro- 
vided, and that its poptdarity will con- 
tinne to increase. All Snnday-school 
teachers in the kingdom would do 
wisely to make themselves master of its 
contents. It would supply them with 
useful in&xtmation and with healthy 

Memoeiaus of a Oonbbcratbd Live. 

A Biographical Sketch of John 

Landels, Missionary in Genoa. By 

his Father, William Landels, D.D. 

Nisbet & Co. 

Otjb Iffother, Dr. Ijqndels, and his 

i^unily had tiie affectionate sympathy 

of our entire denomination, and of 

thousands of Christian people outside 

of it, when, now neatly a year and a 

half ago, they were deprived by death. 

of him to whom this beautiful tribute 

of paxental love is dedicated. Death 

fMHnetimes seems to do 'his afipointed 
weric prematurely, and dtoi titose of 
whom we think liiat tiiey can least be 
spared are soonest taken. JohnLaadeis 
was notable for his goodness even* from 
earliest childhood. And no wonder, 
sinoe his iathercan say of him : ^Fran 
his earliest years lie was 'trained to 
believe in the love of Qod in dnist. 
To him, from his in&ney, tiie Baviofiir 
was always ^Qentle Jesus,' and Gtod, 
' Our Father in Heaven.' And we are 
not aware that he could ever look back 
to a time in his life in which he did not 
truly love the Lord." He who began 
thus was sure to develop welL He 
oould make sermons at nine yean of 
age which had all the proper simplicity 
of childhood, and something more — 
deep religions feeling, and clear^iritwal 
insight, as we judge from the asanple 
which his father has publiBhed. He 
became an industrious student, with a 
special fondness for natural history, and 
ready to conseemte ail the knowledge 
he could acquire to the service of the 
Saviour. Delicacy of health did not 
prevent his gravitating towards the 
ministry. After a quiet, but happy, 
college course at Begent's Park, he 
settled at Kirkcaldy, where formidable 
difficulties awaited him which brought 
some heavy troubles upon lus heart,, 
but where, under God, he was enabled, 
by a high Christian prudence oombined 
witii heroic Christian manlineai, to 
achieve many trium^iB which will make 
his name to be admiringly and aJfise- 
tionately remembered for yens to come. 
His heart, however, was in foreign 
mission work. He would have gladly 
gone to India, bat the atote of bia 
health forbade the entestainmeat of 
that project ; and he resolved to asso- 
ciate himself with ihis brother in the 
work in Italy. Hie a^lieation to the 


aeemteies of the Baptist 
Sodetjr Ib a modal of aiinpiicily, £niik- 
vm^sxdanL He was zeadily accepted 
Vf Hm oummittee^ and kit fiuglaiid 
in iha middle of 1877. Ultimately 
Genoawaa ehosen as tbe 'centre of liia 
apaatioBSi «nd lia set himaelf to his 
gnat entapiMeidth all liia aativaand 
sanctifi e d ardonr. Alaa ! his opportanity 
WBBa veiy Mafone; but he made tko 
most of it (huHTodc en&ebkd hun, 
tatbfi teteedto yield. Gastric ferer 
sapenrened, aad slill. he heSd on his 
wiy. ^fiis desixe for work rendeeced 
^aa umnlii&g to reeogniae tlie BOEions 
iiitare sf the ofclsck.'' We can but 
honoor his heroic deyotedseasy though 
vi» doss not wish that eaaftiioa had 
isstnined him} He was soon pros- 
tntey and wb all zemember the grief 
vi&whiGh we heard of his death. The 
itey of his life ftom his fiither's pen 
btt a peculiar ohamL It is wxitten 
vitb a tender hand, fmd is crawded 
with ksBons whidi the young men in 
<mr dnoches would do well to ponder. 

OnranBATKD Wombk. By Claudia. 

London : Hodder & Stoughton. 
Wi xegret that we cannot find space 
^ an extended notiee of this deeply 
intereflting and instPttctive volume. We 
Itope to enrieh eior pages by some 
occanonal eztiaets. Tlie idea of the 
woKk was a happy one, and it has been 
odmiahly -eaecuted. The extent to 
^udi the lessening infiuenoe of 
Christianity in the world is indebted, 
ttnder God, to women who have yielded 
thaaedTes to its qaickenii^ and 
goiding powwwtt^ all the pasmon of a 
^xnng and loving iaitk, can never be 
^wiL Some of these holy women 
have their high place in history ; but 
W nmy more have lived their life of 
HBotAf bnt panetoative and diffusive, 

Uessijigi and then passed away to their 
heavenly reuEaod without having se- 
cured for thamaehres the pen of the 
biographer and the anlngiit ! None of 
them sought lame ; they were all too 
pure, too spiritual, and too self-fozget- 
fol to trouble themselves about what 
posterity mj^ think of them. They 
were content just to fulfil the mission 
of Christ-like love to which they were 
calledt and for which they wereprepared. 
But some of tham were so gifted in 
mind and ehaiaeter as to inherit <*a 
life beyond life" in theiacocd of their 
beautifal deeds, by which many others 
naigfat be iniq>ired to a like devotedness. 
Among these the fifteen women por» 
tiayed in this volume hold a conspicu- 
ous place. The names of some of them 
are familiar ; those of others are less 
known ; all of them are eminently 
worthy of admiring and thankful 
recognition. The life story of eadi has 
its own individuality, and is charmingly 
told. Let our Chiastisn young women 
look attentively at these examples of 
consecration to hig^ and holy service. 
The study will help them, if they read 
diaeriminatively and piayerfully, to 
discover what their Lord would have 
them to do, and will prompt them to 
arise and do it. 


Biographical Sketches of Female 
Missionaries who have laboured in 
VariouB Lands among the Heathen* 
By Mrs. Emma Baymond Fitmaxu 
Gassdl, Fetter^ Galpin, & Ca 
This woric should be read along with 
the one noticed above. Both are per* 
vaded by the same tone, and have the 
same aim. Woman's work in the 
mission field, and especially in the 
Zenanas of India, is elaborately de- 
scribed, and the description illusteatea 


the many high qualities which an 
effective female missionary most 
possess. We are glad to read again 
of Harriet Newell and the two Jadsons, 
and to trace the path of such women as 
tlie illustrious wives of Moflbty and 
Williams, and Ellis, and Mullens. 
Tliis volume affords an opportunity of 
doing so, whilst it puts within our 
reach the same privilege in relation to 
twenty-one other missionary heroines 
who faithfully served their Divine 
Lord, and greatly blessed the ignorant 
and the degraded in various spheres. 
Haigaret Wilson, of Bombay, beauti- 
fully figures in both of the volumes 
before us« We wish that books of this 
kind could be read and pondered by all 
the members of our Evangelical 
Churches, for the sake of the impetus 
they would give to the missionary 
spirit, and the enlarged support they 
would ensure to the missionary cause. 

Frank Powdebhorn : a Story of 
Adventure in the Pampas of Buenos 
Ayres and in the Wiids of Patagonia. 
A Book for Boys. By J. Sands. 
With Twenty-Four Iliustmtions from 
Drawings by the Author, and by 
F. A. F. Nelson & Sons. 
BoTS are fond of stories of adventure, 
and they are sure to read the present 
one with avidity, should it come into 
tlieir hands, as, for the sake of the 
pleasure it may give them, we hope it 
may. It is graphically written, and 
contains a considerable number of ex- 
citing incidents. It is satisfiactory to be 
informed that the Account given by the 
author of Buenos Ayxes ''is founded on 
his personal experience, and that his 
remarks dn the curious animals that 
inhabit that country are the result of 
careful observation." The book is well 
fitted to develop heroic qualities in 

boys, and we liave discovered nothing^ 
that is objectionable in its moral tone. 
The iliustmtions are effective in their 
way, but we should have liked them 
better if they had been less stiff and 
hard. However, they are in a style 
which is popular, and so, perhaps, the 
less that is said against them the better. 

Ih thv Wildb or Florida : a Tale 
of WarfEire and Hunting. By W. 
H. G. Kingston. With Thirty-Seven 
Engmvings. Nelson & Sons. 
Alas ! this charming and instructive 
writer of books for boys has finished 
Ms course. Many an English boy must 
have felt veiy sad at heart on the 
announcement of his death a short time 
ago. He knew how to write so as not 
only to captivate the attention, but also 
to elevate the taste and to improve the 
character of the special class of readers 
to whom it was his delight to address 
himselL They will greatly miss him. 
We hope that a large number of them 
will contrive to secure some opportunity 
of reading this admirably arranged and 
powerfully written story from his 
talented and useful pen. Its pages 
abound with adventure, combined with 
much information respecting the Flora 
and Fauna of Florida presented in a 
readable and rememberable form. The 
book is beautifully printed and bound, 
and the illustrations are not only vivid, 
but are introduced at points of the 
narmtive where they can be of most 

Thb E48TBRN Arohipslaqo, described 
and illustrated. By the Author of 
*« The Arctic World," ** Recent Polar 
Voyages," "The Bird World," &c. 
Nelson & Sons. 
Akothbr most useful book from these 
enterprising and popular publishers, 



and one of the best of its kind. The 
inloiinatioii it supplies was not too 
widely diffuaed previously to its 
appearance. It relates to a part of the 
globe which comparatiyely few English 
people haye yisitedi bat which is 
obviously well worth exploring. The 
an&or describes his work as *' an nn« 
pretending sketch," and yet lie is 
justified in thinking that it is **more 
eomprehensiYe and compact than any 
similar description which has been pat 
before the public" We thank him for 
hid locid account of ^ the glowing 
tropical scenery, the vast natural 
reaooices, the cariosities of the 
vegetable and animal worlds, the 
mountains and forests and rivers, the 
native populations" of the islands of 
the Southern Sea. He helps his 
readers to *^feel the charm of the 
viilgin forests of Borneo, of the rich 
vegetation of the "Land of Fire," of 
the valley and woods of Sumatra, of 
the beautiful landscapes of Celebes and 
Gilolo, of the island haunts of the 
biids of paradise, and of the vomantic 
coast of New Guinea," and we do not 
" torn from his pages dissatisfied." 

Jevvt akd the Insecis; or. Little 
Toilers and their Industries. With 
Twenty-six Illustrations by Qiaco- 
melli Nelson & Sons. 

We do not know who is the author of 
this delightful book, but we hope it will 
fiiid itH way into all our fomilieR, and 
that our children will read it We are 
$ure they will read it with pleasure, and 
they can hardly fail to read it with 
profit. It will not only furnish them 
with much information about the 
insect world, bat will also help them to 
chisish right feelings towards the *' little 
toilen," the beauty and the utility of 

which are not always appreciated sa 
fully as they might be. 

QsMB OF Qrbat Authors; ob, the 
PhuiObopht of Rsadino and 
THiNEma. Selected by John TiUot- 
son. Gall & Inglis, 25, Paternoster 
Square, London; Bernard Terrace, 
We do not see the appositeness of the 
second title of this volume. The first 
is sufficiently indicative of its character, 
and no other was needed. Most of the 
excerpts are worthy of being styled 
''gems," and many persons who have 
some fondness for literature will be glad 
to have them collected together in this 
very comely form. Some two hundred 
authors of different ages and nations 
have been drawn upon, and the com- 
pOer modestly says of his work, " If any 
excuse be necessary for thus collecting 
and re-setting the scattered gems of 
genius, it is supplied by Dr. Johnson, 
who teUs us that ^ he who collects these 
is very laudably employed, as he facili- 
tates the progress of others, and, by 
making that easy of attainment which 
is already written, may give leisure for 
new thoughts and original designs.*" 
Perhaps the utility of the book would 
have been increased if the passages had 
been classified ; but the want of this i» 
compensated for by an excellent Index. 

The Tabbbnacle of Isbaex^ an]> 
ITS Pbiests and Saobifiobs. By 
William Brown. Fifth Edition. With 
Numerous Illustrations. Edinburgh : 
Oliphant, Anderson, & Feirier. 
A BOOK which has reached its fifth 
edition stands in no need of further 
conamendation. Mr. Brown's descrip- 
tion of the stracture and services of 
the Jewish Tabernacle is the most 
complete for popukr purposes in our 



litenittirer. He is well skilled in the 
Teseaiclies of Biblical scholan^ and 
combats yery sacceBsfnlly tbe views of 
some of them, e,g,^ Kalisch and Fer- 
gnsson. In pointing out the tjqpical 
relationB of the Tabernacle and its 
xites, he is always tevetent and dis- 
criminating. The pictorial iUostiations 
are a great help to thennderstanding of 
the text Now that the book is issued 
at dghteenpence its sale will be greatly 

Wmow Clabkx's Home, and What 
Changed It. 

Penfold : a Story of the Flower Mis- 
sion. By Euth Lynn. 

A Lowly Lm with a Loftt Adl 
By Louisa Emily Dobr^ London : 
Beligioas Tract Society. 

** Widow Clabk^b Horn " forcibly de- 
picts the evils which follow in the tmiB 
of intamperance, and riiows the power 
of the Goepel to renew ewen the wont 
of men, and to strengthen us in the 
endurance of the severest trials. It is 
a well-told tale. 

** Penfold "desertbea Hie wanderings 
and the reeftomtioii of a MtoIous^ self* 
willed daughter, and shows the vast 
amount of good which is being done hj 
a very simple agency. 

^K Lowly Life" inrista on theneed 
of doing all for dnist, and shows in a 
very interesting nuumer how that aim 
will ennoUe the meanest life. 

Jenny's Joobiau LeaTes £roia the 

Diary of a Young Servant. By Eraacea 

M. Savile. Londoni John Snow & 

Co., % Ijfj Lane, Batemoeter Bow. 

SvEvrgirl who is tjifaiiejug ^f Agoing 

out to service" afamid read '^Jenny'a 

Journal.'* It can be* boo^t te two* 

pence, and will teach her some espfCal 
lessons, the three chief ones being 
carefulness in handling things, the 
value of neatness and order, and the 
necessity of religion. Jenny had to 
learn these lessons through a troubled 
experience; but she did learn iSbem, 
though not fully, whilst she was in 
service — ^not until after she became a 
wife and a mother. Then, after much 
sorrow to herself and her husband- 
mostly of her own making— she '•got 
into better ways of doing things,** and 
always knew where to go for ntifiiiliTig 
help. ^ Trust in Qod and do your dutj, 
and don't forget * Jenny's JoumaL' ^ 

Half-hour Tempesancst Eeadinus. 
Series I. By Rev. C. Courtenay. 

The Mason's Homs; The Cabman's 
Wife ; The Mother's Prateb. 
By Mary Beighton. Jarrold & Sons, 
3, Paternoster Buildings. 

In the first of these xmblicalions we 
have ^ John Snow's Wifb," and other 
Temperance stories^ a. dozen in all, well 
told, and at onoe amoring and inatciK- 
tive. Mrs. Beighton's Tracts consist of 
stories in verse, founded on £M^t The 
language is simple and fitdl of life, the 
verses flow along with ease^ the rhjin- 
ing is good, and the incidents are graphi- 
cally presented. 

A Word About Work. By Mi& 
W. P. Lockhart,LiverpodL 

Wheaa-Mbal BBsan. By M. Tales 
(of the Ladies' Saiiiita>y Axsociatioii). 
JazTold ^ Sons,. ^. Paternoster 

Two admirably WTiHen tracts fiyrpopu* 
lar penual, the wide cit cuiatk m d 
w4iieh must prove usaM in many waysr 


HsartLbbsonb. AddreawftlbrMothan' 
MeetingB, &c. By Lovm GUyton. 
Beligioas Tract Society. 
Many Chiistian women, older and 
jotmger, are zealously oceapied in the 
benevolent work the efficiency of which 
this admirable Tolome ia designed to 
promote. Some of these may not po»* 
fiesa the fertility of mind which wonkl 
qoaliff them for delivezing aa onginisi 
address at every meeting, and wonld be 
glad to have at hand some piinted 
addiesses fitted to interest the poor 
women whom they collect together, 
and to do th^m good. No better 
help of such a kind could they 

obtain than tiat which is here offered. 
The Introduction explains the origin of 
the work, and the mediods in which it 
aoay be put to tiie beei use. With such 
an auxiliary, under God's blessing, 
many a woman yrbo longs to be useful, 
but who ii kept back by diflBldence, 
might be eneomaged to give some 
portion of her time and strength to the 
poor of her sex, and might be instru- 
mental in patting into their hearts the 
light and comfort of that "godliness" 
which is "profitable unto all things, 
having the promise of the life that now 
is and of that which is to come." 

(In the DouBLfi "tbbza rdca" of Dants.) 

BABE ! Oft in my inmost heart I ponder 

The ancient promise of Divine salvation. 
And call to memory, with awe and wonder, 

The signs that told the long-expectant nation 
That now at length the joyful hour was nearing 

Of Israel's hope and Israel's consolation. 

How first the heavenly messenger, appearing 
In dreams of midnight slumber, stood before me, 

And bade me, without doubt or faithless fearing. 
Trust in the favour that Jehovah bore me, 
And gave me joy all other joys transcending ; 

For soon almighty power should shadow o'er me. 
And thou, my babe, a Kingdom never ending 
Shodfdst come to make thine own, by love achievM. 

Then, to the uplands of Judea wending, 
Elizabeth I 'sought, who me receivM 
THth greeting strange— another heavenly token — 

And called me blessed, in that I believM 

The gracious tidings that the Lord had spoken. 
To me, and all the world, salvation bringing, 

Whose word of promise never could be broken. 

144 On Correggufs Picture of the Madonna adoring the ChilA 

At length, babe ! thou cam'st, the angels nnging 

Sweet songs of praise on high and peace descending, 
The stailit vault of heaven with echo ringing, 

Shepheids and sages on thy birth attending 

With looks and words of wondrous salutation, 
With gifts and homage xonnd thy cradle bending. 

Then, at the instant of thy presentation, 

Simeon and Anna, in the temple staying. 
Who long had waited Israel's consolation. 

By day and night in &ith expectant praying, 

Received fulfilment of the promise sealM, 
For he they sought, no more his course delaying, 

Sndd^y in his temple was reveal^. 

Then, in his aims the aged prophet taking 
Thy baby form, he to the Lord appeal^ 

Now that salvation's glorious dawn was breaking, 

To take him to his rest, in thee discerning 
The light of Israel for the world's awaking. 

Then, to thy father and thy mother turning. 

With raptured look, he gave his fervent blessing, 
And, all his heart with fire celestial burning, 

Spoke of the future day, and, me addressing, 

Told of the Sign in thee to be erected — 
A sign whereat, its inmost heart expressing. 

The world should gaze, by diverse thoughts affected. 

Should stumbling fall, or rise to life imending, 
A sign received by some, by some rejected. 

Next, with a tender sorrow o'er me bending, 

Of a sharp sword he told, to be unsheathed, 
My piercM soul with cruel anguish rending. 

While thus he spake, the aged Anna breathed 

Her joyfid praise, and spake of thine arising 
To all that in redeeming grace believM. 

babe I 1 fathom not the dark surmising ; 

This only know I — fain from harm I'd ward thee, 
Within these arms, secure from foes' surprising. 

No ill shall come that can by love be spared thee, 

No sword shall strike thee that shall £eu1 to sever 
Thy mother's heart ! The hosts of God shall guard thee. 

In Him I trust whose mercy faileth never. 

Sleep, sleep, my babe ! thou'rt mine I He gave thee to me ! 
Sleep, sleep, my babe, thou'rt Qod's, and Qod's for ever I 

H. C Leokabd. 



APBIL, 1881. 

(Bm ^nnnEl ^tiings. 

E are looking forward with the usual eagerness to the 
denominational meetings which are to be held in London 
during the latter part of the present month. May God 
graciously prepare us. for them, and may they be marked 
by a definiteness of purpose, by a unanimity of tone, 
and by a holy enthusiasm of spirit which shall secuie to them a 
mighty power of blessing ! We have various agencies at work in all 
parts of the land which find their centre in, and which derive no 
little stimulus from, the gatherings which annually take place in 
the metropolis ; and it is impossible to over-estimate the importance 
of the spirit by which they are animated. If they are to be truly 
healthy iu their influence, they must be under the guidance and in- 
spiration of the Great Lord of the Church. Mere human wisdom 
^ill be unable to avoid mistakes ; mere human feeling is sure to 
spring from polluted sources and to flow in perverted channels ; mere 
human energy in the diffusion of the Gospel must inevitably break 
down before the forces which are arrayed against it. Are we, as a 
denomination, sufficiently alive to these momentous facts ? Do we 
80 vividly perceive their reality, and so intensely feel their solemnity, 
as to be constantly seeking a fuller and more fruitful spiritual life in 
prayerful fellowship with Him whose we are and whom we profess to 


146 Our Annual Meetings. 

serve ? Are we not too prone to trust to the mere machinery by 
which our work is to be done ? Is there no false fire in our 
zeal ? " Without Me," says the Saviour, " ye can do nothing/' 
Dependence upon His power, and sympathy with His will, will open 
oui minds to the reception of His Spirit ; and the possession of His 
Spirit will be the guarantee of the richest blessing for ourselves and 
for the world for which we can pray. 

The meetings will be divided into two groups, which, as usual, will 
intermingle — those which concern the Mission and those under the 
auspices of the Union. The arrangements for the former, so far as 
they are at present completed, will be as follows : — ^There will be a 
preliminary prayer-meeting on the morning of the 21st, at which 
Dr. Culross is to preside. On the following Sunday missionary 
sermons are to be preached in the many pulpits of the metropolis and 
its suburbs. On Tuesday morning the annual meeting of the 
members will be held, under the presidency of Edward Rawlings, 
Esq. ; and in the evening of the same day the mission soiree will take 
place at Cannon Street Hotel, with Lord Justice Lush for chairman, 
and Mr. Lockhart, of Liverpool, and the Eevs. 6. H. Bouse, M.A., Dr. 
Stanford, and J. B. Myers for speakers. The Annual Missionary 
Sermon will be preached on Wednesday morning by Mr. Spurgeon. 
We rejoice in this appointment, and trust that our beloved brother 
may be favoured with the requisite health and strength. But where 
will this service be held ? Bloomsbury Chapel is spacious, but 
Mr. Spurgeon's popularity is unique. We have sometimes said that 
if he were to be advertised to preach in the middle of an American 
prairie, ten thousand people wojild flock to hear him. Why should 
not the Tabernacle be secured ? There Mr. Spuigeon would be at 
home, and an audience would gather worthy of his fame, from which 
the exchequer of the Society would profit, as, we are sorry to learn, 
it sorely needs to do. The Annual Public Meeting will be held in 
Exeter Hall, the chair to be occupied by Mr. Herbert Tritlon, and 
the addresses to be delivered by the Reva. W. Anderson, J. P. Chown, 
and — . Hallam. We regret to learn that, whilst, up to the end of 
January^ there has been an increase of £3,909 in the expenditure^ 
as compaicd with the same period of last year, there has also 

Our Annual Meetings. 147 

been, on tha same c<Hnpariaon, a decrease in the income of £511. 
The former is ezjdained by the extension of the irork in 
ChiDa and in India ; but it is obvious that> nnless the resources of 
the Society have been assisted greatly beyond the usual figure 
daring the latter months of the financial year, another heavy debt 
must weigh upon its energies. We shall be unspeakably thankful if 
the Treasurer should be able to present to the subecribets a satis- 
factoiy balance-sheet. We are gratified to note that five new 
brethren have been recently accepted for foreign service — two for 
India, two for China, and one for Africa. We hear, moreover, that 
other candidates are before the Sub-Committee appointed to judge 
of their eligibility. It has often been said, ^ Let us have the men, 
and the money will not fail to come." Now is the time, then, for the 
friends of the Mission to set themselves with fresh zeal and self- 
denial to their beloved work. 

The axiangements for the Union meetings, so far as they relate to 
the Home and Irish Mission, were fully announced in the Chronicle 
of last month ; and it is only necessary on this page to emphasise 
the impassioned appeal which the Secretary, Mr. Sampson, i^p^[ided 
to the announcement. We are fully alive to the difficulties with 
which the Mission lias to contend ; but its object is on all hands 
admitted to be a noble one, and ought to command a more liberal 
support. We think it might do so in many quarters without 
interfering with the local missions, which are doing excellent service. 
Oar readers are aware that the Bev. Henry Dowson is to be the new 
President of the Union. He is entitled to the honour by his higli 
standing in Uie denomination, and by the fidelity with whicli he has 
.served its interests throiigh many years. The Augmentation and 
Aunuity Funds will, no doubt, engage much attention, and we trust 
tliat some plans may be devised by which they may be greaUy 
strengthened. Trade has not as yet revived to any very appreciable 
extent, nor is it likely to do so whilst the nations remain, politioaUy 
considered, in so unsettled a state. But the interests of rdigion 
must not be lost sight of, and all needful provision should be made 
for the men who are mi apart for their promotion, and who are 

heroically true to the work they have taken in hand. 


148 The Late Rev. James Webb. 

We thought it probable that the questions raised, and the sugges- 
tions offered, by Mr. Badford Hope in the last number of this 
Magazine on " the choice of ministers " might elicit some expres- 
sions of opinion for our present issue. None, however, have 
come to hand. The subject is a perplexing one ; but we fear it will 
have to be dealt witL Probably it would be unwise for the Union 
to attempt any definite action in regard to it at present ; but, if there 
be an hour to spare, a friendly talk might not be without some 
useful result 

" God be merciful unto us, and bless us, and cause His face to 
shine upon us; that Thy way may be known upon earth, Thy 
saving health among all nations." 

V^t ITate ipieix. James Mitrb. 

HEN my father entered on his ministry at Blaby, at the 
commencement of 1840, Mr. Webb was at Amesby, 
only sue miles distant. He and my father frequently 
visited each other, and I had many opportunities of 
seeing him, listening to his conversation, and hearing 
him preach. He had regular ministerial engagements at Countes- 
thorpe, two miles from Blaby ; and I well remember how great a treat 
it was to sit beneath his teaching from the pulpit of the Baptist 
chapel in that village. I was then a mere youth, but I felt his 
power, admired his eloquence, was assisted in forming my conceptions 
of Divine truth by the clearness of his expositions, and often 
responded to the force and urgency of his appeals. He was then 
approaching the prime of life, and was regarded throughout the county, 
and especially amongst the churches of the Association, as a preacher 
of marked ability, second amongst the Baptists only to Mr. MurselL I 
used to hear him spoken of as an industrious reader, as a diligent student, 
and as a scholar of more than ordinary acquirements. He had his 
own way of saying quaint things and of relating amusing anecdotes ; 

The Late Rev. Jatnes Weii. 149 

bat his conversation never showed the least sign of flippancy or 
Myolity. Diminutive in physical stature, he was, nevertJieless, a 
man of intellectual and moral weight. Without being stem or 
moioBe, he was habitually serious. He could indulge a hearty 
laugh when the occasion was worthy of the indulgence ; but he had 
no tolerance for the trifling or the silly. He was powerful in fireside 
debate, and used frequently to put his opponents to trouble, and 
sometimes even to inflict upon them some annoyance, by the per- 
sistency with which he insisted upon their keeping to the point at 
issua One of the conmion topics of discussion was the Communion 
question, on which, in the ministerial circle of those days, he stood 
alone; but, though his brethren thought that on that question his 
judgment was nairow and misdirected, they did not regard his feeling 
as that of a bigot. His society was prized, and his co-operation 
was sought, by Baptists and Psedo-baptists equally. Our intercourse 
with him did not last long. In the early part of 1843 he removed 
to Ipswich, and I well remember the regret with wliich we at Blaby, 
and all his numerous Leicestershire friends, parted with him. 

The space at my command does not admit of more than a brief 
statement of the leading facts in the life of our departed friend; and 
these I must gather from the two singularly interesting accounts of 
bim furnished by Mr. Aldis — the first in the Freeman of February 11, 
and the second in the Missionaby Herald for March. He was born 
on January 21, 1803, and was the son of the Kev. Samuel Webb, of 
Wattisham, Suffolk, who, as I recollect, was afterwards for some 
years pastor of the Baptist church at Oadby, near Leicester 
and after that for a short time at Appleby, near Ashby-de-la 
Zonch, the scene of my father's ministry on joining the Baptist 
denomination. The subject of this sketch was baptized at seventeen 
years of age at Stoke Green Chapel, Ipswich, by the then pastor of 
the church, the Bev. James Payne. Nine years later he entered 
Horton College, taking with him the advantages of a superior 
education* His first ministerial charge was at Stonehouse, Devon, 
where he enjoyed the friendship of two of the most estimable 
niinisters our denomination has ever had, Samuel Nicholson and 
Thomas Horton, and where his labours were highly appreciated. 
Mr. Aldis informs us that, "while he was at Stonehouse, the ministers 
of different denominations felt constrained to send a protest to the 
local papers against the doings and influence of the Plymouth theatre. 

150 2^ Late Rev James WehlK 

Mr. Welt drew up this, and wrote the letters that followed. The 
celebrated Sheridan Knowles conducted the defence, and with his 
usual ability. Yet, in the opinion of the ministers and the CSmsttan 
public, Mr. Webb conducted the controversy with singular success. 
The research which this involved made him better acquainted with 
modem plays and actors than he desired, but it gave him a deeper 
insight into the moral condition and temptations of the world than 
otherwise he could have attained." 

It appears that, hi^y esteemed as his ministry was at Stone- 
house, he was not satisfied with what he could see of the measure 
of his usefulness there, and in 1837 he removed to Amesby, *' to live 
in the house where Bobert Hall was bom, and in which the ' Help 
to Zion's Travellers ' was written." The village is but a small one, 
and the situation was one of perfect retirement. To many it would 
seem lonely and dull ; to Mr. Webb it gave coveted opportunities for 
intellectual and spiritual culture. His cliief pastoral work, however, 
was done at Stoke Green, Ipswich, where he settled in 1843, and 
where he remained till the autumn of 1866. His life at Ipswich was 
a busy one, and, in the best sense of the word, successful. His next 
appointment was to the classical tutorship of the Baptist College, 
now of Brighton Grove, Manchester, with which he combined for two 
years the pastorship of the church at Bury, where the college was 
then situated. After eleven years of tutorial work he retired, and 
settled in London — ^preaching occasionally, and devoting himself 
with great earnestness (as, indeed, he had done for many years pre- 
viously) to the interests of the Foreign Mission. His health was 
usually good, and he lived to a good old age. The stormy and 
severely cold weather of January last brought on the afffiotion (con- 
gestion of the lungs) which terminated his life. He died in perfect 
peace, just before the Sabbath dawn of the 23rd of that month. 

It is impossible to present a better portrait of him as a Christian 
and as a minister than the one which Mr. Aldis has drawn, and with 
which these lines of affectionate remembrance shall close : — 

** Mr. Webb was eaunentl j a theologiaiL His eanatttiilioii. and habils fitvoored 
this result Hia Iftammg was valued only aa it miniateied to it Though few 
men took a more lively interest in passing events, yet his true life was in the 
unchanging truths of rehgion. His theology would be regarded by many as old- 
fashioned, and was certainly seasoned with Calvinism, but it was drawn by him 
direct from the Bible. It did not flatter his vanity as an advanced thinker, but 

Tie Rdigiotis Influence of Carlyle* 151 

it nourished his obedience as a servant of Christ. It rested not on an inquiry 
but on a rerelation, and issued not in speculation btit experience. ' t know 
wiiom I baye b^ewd' iros the force of his life. 'I believed, tkenfofe bftre I 
spokeDy' was the nasoft kA hia work He was • decided aand peanfltoat Strict 
ConununioniBt^ and felt bound to this bj his reason and conscience, yet, like many 
wko hold these viewsi he was eminently large-hearted. He cherished warm 
j^vmpathies, and held hearty co-opemtion with all good men. To say '' Grace be 
with all them that love our Lord Jesus Christ ^ never was witb him, as it seems 
to many, a high attainment, but one of the most elementary Mta of ehavity. 

^His etbici wen net those of Aristode or lliackeiay* They lefened wy 
little te the o^niona of men, but all to the judgment of Qod. The supreme 
thing was not advantage, but conscience. In his view crime was not worse than 
€iiu He could not waste his indignation on oddities and follies when there were 
«o many vices to be condemned and deplored. He did not care to be hot against 
meanness, unkes there was in it some element of badness. He hod much cf the 
old Hebrew feelin^^ that nothing is very fooliiBb but that wbiek is ungodly and 
wicked. On the other hand, drapery and perfiuae had bat small chasma for 
liim; posture and glitter never inspired him with love or awe. Corruption 
l«dizeoed was only the more loathsome ; and cunning when cleverest was 
rv.'garded only as most Satanic. For hypocrisy and falsehood he had scant com- 
passion, but for weakness and sorrow none had a gentler hand or a softer heart. 
As a man he wae inflexibly honest and true ; as a co-worker he was prompt, 
constant and thoughtful ; aa a friend, ftank, genial, and geaeroua ; but as a 
Christian he was absorbed in canseccation. His piety was eminently devout, and 
liis devotion supremely reverent. Happy in Jesus, he enjoyed the spirit of 
adoption ; but his filial heart always bowed before the * Holy Lord God.' It has 
tccn well said, * He was greatest in prayer, especially fiimily prayer.' In his 
later years his character beautifully mellowed. His energy of wiU, often urgent, 
sad sometimes a little peremptory, ripened into a pstient and gentle waiting for 
Cluist Hia tenderness towards his grandchildren was something touching to 
witness. As his day declined the golden glories gathered round, and as he drew 
near to the better land he caught more of its spirit and tone." 


%\i ^tligtcrtts fnflxrenfe 0f Carlgle. 

HE famous " writer of books " who so recently passed 
from us has impressed a mark upon the age far deeper 
than that left by the mere essayist or historian. Carlyle 
is a religious teacher and preacher, though by no means of 
the common kind. He is styled by liis disciples " the Seer," 
or ** the Prophet.'* His books are full of God and the Soul, Duty and 

1^2 The Religious Influence of Carlyte. 

Sin, Heaven and HelL And smoe they aie likely now to be more 
widely read than ever, it may be worth while to venture a few 
plain considerations on the character and value of their religious 

Let it be said, at the oatset, that no one who has entered into the 
spirit of Carlyle's writings can fail to realise that he is in the presence 
of a tme God-fearing man, earnestly faithful to his own sense of 
religious duty, and strongly bent on making others faithful too. 
His personal friends describe him as not only most sincere and 
noble-minded, but humble, guileless, and devout, with a fatherly 
" God bless you '' for little children, and a generous heart toward the 
struggling and unfortunate. His '' Beminiscences " reveal a tender- 
ness of religious emotion, a strength of pious impulse, which might 
otherwise have been unsuspected His *^ lettevB,*^ when more fully 
published, will no doubt show us still more of that gentle and gracious 
aspect of the man. We have at present, however, to do with his books. 
And in these Carlyle comes before us as a veritable iconoclast — stem 
and unsparing. He tears down the false stucco with so rough 
a hand that the honest brickwork behind is also threatened with 
demolition. Herein, indeed, as a religious teacher lies alike his 
weakness and his strength. " He cries out against cant, but never 
even hints a remedy," was the criticism made by Bobertson of 
Brighton. He cuts our moorings and sends us far out to sea ; but he 
tells us little of the land of rest. He wounds, but he scarcely tiiea 
to heal He can sympathise deeply and warmly, but he fails ta 
satisfy ; he fails even to direct. On the other himd, this very one- 
sidedness lends the greater vigour to his blows. They fall upon 
abuses and evils like strokes from the mighty hammer of his favourite 
Thunder-god. In this intense destructive energy, in so far as it is 
rightly directed, lies much of Carlyle's usefulness. The moral air is 
marvellously clearer for his thunderstorms. Tou can now see 
prospects that before were hidden. You can hear voices close at 
hand that before seemed a great way off! He is of the type of the 
Forerunner, who, with loud and stem appeals, '* prepares the way of 
the Lord." 

Who, for instance, can measure the debt which even we in the 
churches owe Carlyle for his lifelong denunciation of aU shams 
and shows, dead formulas and hearsays, hypocrisies and untruths ? 
It is tme that he does us scant justice, and knows little of us 

The Religwus Influence of Carlyle. 153 

beyond oar faults ; but liis pungent satire has more oil in it than 
vinegar Never was heard a more ringing call to our true dignity and 
duty. The gulf between class and class, tlie lack of human sympathy, 
the disposition to hand eveiything over to institutions and societies, is 
nowhere more faithfully exposed " Past and Present/' with all its 
exaggerations, is a healthy book for a follower of Christ to read. 
And equally useful are those passages, so frequent in all these books^ 
where the necessity for a personal religious faith is insisted on, as 
distinguished from the mere " old clothes " of tradition and custom. 
Strong is he who has a faith that is his own I " He stands thereby 
manlike toward God and man ; the vague shoreless universe has 
become to him a firm city and dwelling which he knows. Such 
virtue lies in those words well spoken, I believe ! " 

Still more impressive is Carlyle's prolonged protest against 
Haterialism. To him, life is not a mere " relation," but a solemn^ 
mysterious, spiritual reality. The modem gospel of social develop- 
ment meets with little mercy at his hands. The universe through 
which we pursue our little round is to him full of wonders and 
tenors. " Through every star, through every grass-blade, the glory 
of a present God still bums." And the mystery is not only about 
OS ; it is within us. It is written in ineffaceable characters on our 
very nature. " The true Shekinah is Man," Carlyle quotes from 
Chiysostom, with much approval and amplification. ** That Invisible, 
&at Infinite, did it not at any moment disclose itself to thee ? 
Came it never, like the voice of old Eternities, sounding through thy 
beait of hearts ? The Infinite is more sure than any other fact." 
And, therefore, to forget God, whether for the nation or the individual, 
is spiritual death. 

The theories of Utilitarianisu are equally obnoxious to Carlyle. 
Our conduct must rest, not on the shifting sand of expediency, but on 
the granite rock of right. The question is not, how far can I safely 
go in sin, how near to the precipice without falling over ? I must not 
sin at all, on peril of my soul. '^ No ! it is not leUer to do the right than 
the wrong. The wrong must in no wise be done ; the right must in 
no wise be left undone. The one is etemal life ; the other is eternal 
death." Bight and wrong are etemal distinctions. They are causes 
rigidly followed by their consequences both here and hereafter. 
Heaven and hell are thus " not a fable, or a semi-fable, but an ever- 
lasting highest fact." It was being argued once in Carlyle's presence 

154 The Religious Influence of Carl^le. 

that we really cannot tell who are wicked, and that there is no very 
strict line of demarcation between the evil and the good. He burst 
in vehemently — "None of your Heaven-and-Hell-Amalgamation- 
Companies for me I We do know what is wickedness. I know 
wicked men ; men whom I would not live with ; men whom under 
certain circiunstances I should kill, or they should kill me ! Our old 
German fathers dragged such a man to a peat bog, and thrust him in 
there, and said, ' Gro in there ! That is the place for aU such as thee ! ' "* 
It was roughly, almost savagely, expressed ; yet how much more true 
and wholesome than the shallow Universalism which obliterates the 
m(»ral law, and idly sings 

^ That there are fifty roacU to town. 
And lather more to heaven ! " 

With convictions of this kind it will be foreseen that Carlyle's 
sympathy in the religious struggles of all earnest souls is deep and 
distinct. His own peculiar experience, as it appears to be described in 
*' Sartor Resartus," assumed the character of a death-wrestle with 
universal unbelief, or " the Everlasting No,** such as few, it is to be 
hoped, are called to wage, such as for the most it is neither easy nor 
essential to follow. Still less edifying is the " Life of John Sterling," 
a melancholy and disheartening book, in which the sunshine is scarcely 
allowed to glimmer through the encompassing cloud of donbt But 
the " Cromwell," apart from its historical interest, is fitted to do the 
reader thorough spiritual good. The best side of the biographert 
nature seems to be drawn out by the deep, stem, realistic Puritan piety 
of our glorious Protector. There is true inspiration for Christian men 
in the description of Cromwell — ^ one of those singular enthusiasts who 
believe they have a soul to be saved, and even take some trouble about 
it ; " in the allusions to his conversion — '' certainly a grand epoch for 
a man, properly the one epoch, the turning-point of him and his 
activity for evermore ; " and, finally, in the story of the last sad days at; 
Whitehall — " a great sacred scene, immortal light-beams struggling 
amid the black vapours of Death," and Oliver, "^ the wearied one," 
staying himself, and the nation he was about to leave, on the eternal 
covenant of God. The same salutary and stimulating spirit breathes 
in many other of the pages of Carlyle. Here is manifestly a man 
who has himself shared in the great struggle after light and love, 

• " Life of Bishop Wilberforce," VoL I., pu 40a 

The Reiigious Influence of Carlyle, 155 

'' straggle often baffled, sore baffled, but straggle never ended, ever 
with true unconquerable purpose begun anew ! " Nor is there 
wanting the assurance of Divine support in the conflict. All Heaven 
is on the aide of the humble, strenuous seeker. '' Courage, and ever 
forward," is the constant watchword. Only learn to renounce thyself, 
and the end is siure! ^'Love not pleasure; love God. Tliis is the 
£verla3ting Yea, wherein all contradiction is solved ; wherein whoso 
walks and works, it is well with him." Cheering is it to compare 
with such words of abstract teaching one sentence from the " Beminis- 
cences." Carlyle is speaking there of the father who lived and died 
in the old simple Scottish faith, untroubled by the doubts that 
exercised his distinguished son. " Mercifully has he been spared till 
I am abler to bear his loss ; till by manifold struggles I too, as he did, 
feel my feet on the everlasting rock, and through time with its death 
can in some degree see into eternity with its life." 

Thus far, then, we have cause to hail Carlyle as a most valiant and 
able witness to the truth. In an age when too many of our wisest 
are resolutely ignorant upon the highest themes, it is refreshing to 
meet with one who takes his stand so firmly on " the Everlasting Yea." 
We may be thankful to see our children interested in his vivid 
portraitures of character, and inspired by his urgent calls to duty. 
He may do them, as he has done us, a world of good. But we should 
be wanting in that very honesty which Carlyle himself has been at 
pains to teach us if we concealed from them what appear to us defects 
and even dangers in his religious thought. He may do them harm as 
well as good. He requires to be read with the eyes well open, and 
the judgment actively at work. Our reverence for him must not 
liinder the frank expression, where we think it called for, of our dis^ 
appointment and even of our distrust. 

We do not care to dwell on the satire, far too free to be discrimi- 
nating, which Carlyle pours on the churches of the day, established 
and non-establiahed, on our recognised modes of operation, our theories 
of doctrine, and our forms of worship. All this we can take with 
equanimity. What there is antiquated or imreal in our organisa- 
tions, let it go ; what is of the essence can be trusted to endure, 
^e case is more serious when the Christian Scriptures are 
^credited. The tone adopted in speaking of the Bible is usually 
^pedful ; sometimes it is of an even warmer kind ; but its 
authority, as a revelation, is reduced to a minimum. Hebrew psalms 


156 The Religious Influence of CarlyU* 

and prophecies and gospels are stars that shone out brightly once 
upon the pious pilgrim ; but now they are " gone out " I " The one 
Bible, of whose plenary inspiration doubt is not so much as possible/' 
lies within the breast. This inward consciousness " is belief ; all else 
is opinion." We demur to that conclusion. My personal apprehension 
of God is not of such a kind that I can afford to set aside the glowing 
revelations of truth vouchsafed to David and Isaiah, to John and 
Paul. They knew God as I, even with their help, scarcely know 
Him yet. Extinguish the light they shed, and my consciousness of 
God is too dim, too uncertain, to guide me to His feet. I turn to 
them still, day by day, for illumination. Above all, I turn — I must 
turn — ^to Him who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, Jesus Christ: 
for no man cometh unto the Father, but by Him." What, then, has 
Carlyle to say of Christ ? 

Christ is named, it is said, some seven or eight times in these 
writings ; or rather. He is not named so often as referred to under 
some reverent circumlocution. He is " the greatest of the Heroes.*' 
He is *' our divinest Symbol." He is " the Peasant-Saint, the splendour 
of Heaven springing from the humblest depths of earth." " Our highest 
Orpheus walked in Judea eighteen hundred years ago ; His sphere- 
melody took captive the ravished souls of men; still flows and 
sounds, though now with thousandfold accompaniment, through all 
our hearts ; and modulates and divinely leads them." Now this is 
beautifully said ; and it shows perhaps what *' a burning, boundless 
reverence " the speaker had for Christ : but why do we not hear more 
of Him in these books, and why do we not feel more in them of His 
Spirit ? For is it not that very divine melody which we miss so 
much ; which we long to find there, and cannot ; which would make 
them, what for want of it they now can never be, a full Gospel- 
message to the age ? " Religious seer as he was," remarks a recent 
critic in the /SJoectotor, Carlyle " was in no sense Christ-like." In liis 
writings, certainly, the distinctly Christian element is conspicuous by 
its absence. It is this want which his Christian readers feel, and 
which compels them to stand upon their guard.* 

* Compare the remarkable interview between Irving and Carlyle at Dromclog 
Moss, in which the former drew from the latter, by degrees, '' the confession that 
I did not think as he of the Christian religion, and that it was vain for me to 
ezpeet I evnr eoold or should.'' Beminifloences, YoL I., p« 170. 

The Religious Influence of Carlyle. 157 

The bitterness of Carlyle's writings has passed into a pioyerb ; is 
that Chiist-like? Would He have called our philanthropy mere 
iMudlin, our industry a manunon worship, our reforms a diimera, and 
oar religion a cant ? We feel confident that He would have dealt in 
no such wholesale condemnation. He would have discriminated. 
He would have pitied our poor endeavours, and had patience with 
our blunders. Carlyle seems often to have none. We turn with 
relief from the Sage of Chelsea to the Teacher of Kazareth* " Ee 
will not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax." 

Another characteristic of these writings, very far from Christian, 
the honour which they pay to Porce. The " Lectures on Heroes " is 
a noble and spirit-stirring composition, embodying that worship of 
Force. Beverence for all men who can make multitudes follow them ! 
£eYerence for Mahomet, with all his errors, and for Napoleon, with 
all his ambitions I Pass roimd the Pantheon of great men, and pay 
your homage to Luther and Knox, Dante and Shakespeare, Bums and 
Samuel Johnson. There again we part company with our guide. 
Here force of genius, however extraordinary, has no charm without 
the saving graces of humility, faith, and love. It is not Force that 
^e worship, but Truth and Groodness, Sacrifice and Suffering ; in a word, 
the Crucified Christ. He is above all your heroes, as the heavens are 
above the earth. Do not place Him in your Pantheon ! Do not 
expect us to worship there ! 

Carlyle's idea of religion can itself hardly be called Christian. 
It is the idea of submission, denial of self, annihilation of self, the 
" Islam " of Mahomet. That, says he, represents '' the soul of all 
religion." Not of the Christian religion ! Christ teaches submission ; 
but it is a submission blended with sure faith and expectation I " To 
bear Death and the pangs of Tophet too, and trample Tophet under 
thy feet, while it consimies thee ; to meet it and defy it^" may be ver}' 
splendid Stoicism, but it is not the Christian Gospel. The Gospel 
proclaims that there is no Tophet possible for the repenting sinner. 
It proclaims Bedemption and Beoonciliation. For the worst of men, 
if he once turn to God, a way is made, clear and sufficient, through the 
sacrifice of Calvary, to the Father's feet. The confidence of the child 
is substituted for the terror of the slave. And thus to read the 
gracious words of Christ is like batjiing in summer sunshine after 
emerging firom the sombre shadows of Carlyle. 

A further feature of difference lies in the uncertainty about the 

158 The Religious Influence of Carlyle. 

Unseen wkich confuses the reader of these "woiks. The fact of the 
Unsee» is sure : nothing so sure ; but how to apprehend it, how to 
reach it for oaraelves ? ^ Dark and abstruse, witihont lamp or 
authentic finger-post, is the course of pious genius toward fte Eternal 
Kingdoms grown. No fixed highway more : Uie old spiritual high- 
ways all torn up andfiungin heaps;* — «o,andwitti much more of the 
same sort, is the reader of ** John Sterling '' saluted. " Whence, and 
whither ? Sense knows not ; faith knows not ; only that it is through 
mystery to mystery, from God to God ! " Surely we Ao know more 
than that ! Surely we have heard One saying, ** Whither I go ye 
know, and the way ye know." The Cross of Christ has become the 
ladder set up between earth and heaven ; and the angels ascend and 
descend thereon, bringing life and immortality to light. Or are we 
driven to confess that it is all a dream, and that Christ died in vain? 
Are we no better off than the heathen were before He came ? 

Has He not even revealed God to man ? We appear in these 
writings shut up to think of God as an abstraction, ^ the Inexorable/' 
"the Unfathomable," "the Fnnameable!" "Eternities" and 
" Immensities" take the place of the living Jehovah. But it is 
not in this high-flown dialect, a mere jaigon to all but the initiated 
few, that Jesus has taught us to think and speak of God. On the 
contrary, we are taught to think of Him as ** the Father,** near at 
hand, and swift to bless. He is no abstraction, but a personal, 
present, SeaUty. He watches the sparrows on the housetop, and 
orders His children's footsteps, and counts their tears. He receives 
sinners, and freely forgives them. Would you know the Father ? 
Behold the Son ! Ttere is God, manifest in Jesus Christ and acces- 
sible to all men. In that God may we put our constant trust " He 
that hath seen Me hath seen the Father." 

Deeper and truer than the keen exercise of intellect that drew the 
life of Sterling was the instinct of the heart laid bare in a letter of 
Cariyle's to his friend Thomas Erskine, of linlathen, dated 12th Feb., 
1869 * : — *^ * Our Father which art in Heaven, Hallowed be Hy name, 
Thy will be done ' — what else can we say ? Hie other night, in my 
sleepless tossings about, which were growing more and more miserable, 
those words, that brief and grand Prayer, came strangely into mj 

mind, witli an altogether new emphasis ; as if trrft^, and shining for 

. • . < • . ^ ■ ■ ■ - - - 

• * Letters trf miomin Erdrine,* Tol. II., p. SJS. 

77te Agnostiasm of the Day^ 159 

me in nuld pure splendour, on the black bosom of the night there ; 
where I, as it were, rtad them word by word — ^with a sudden check to 
my imperfect wanderings, with a sudden softness of composure, much 
imexpecteA I never felt before how intensely the voice of man's 
soul that Prayer is ; the inmost aspiration of all that is high and pious 
in poor Human Nature ; right worthy to be recommended with an 
* After this manner pray ye.' " 

Here then this imperfect review may fitly close. It is impossible 
to speak of the religious influence of Carlyle as an unmixed benefit. 
Tliere is too much of the earthquake and fire about it ; and the Divine 
gentleness of the *' still small voice * is too seldom heard. Sometimes 
he seems like a great blind Samson, groping in the dark ; and then 
the least in l^e Kingdom of heaven is greater than he. But who can 
doubt that he is one of whom the Master^s charitable word is eminently 
trne—" he that is not against us is on our part ** ? He casts out devils, 
though he follows not with us. He worships our God, though 
not alter our manner. And so '' in the world of realities," to use his 
own pathetic prayer, * may the Great Father bring us together in 
perfect holiness and perfect love ! * 
"Hampstead. Williaji Brook. 

%\t ^jjiurslirism nf % gay. 


By James McOosh, D.D., LL.D., President of the College of 

New Jersey. 
[Ddivend January 3rd, 1881.] 

HERE are few people here who remember or, indeed, ever 
heard, that some yeaxs ago I delivered in Boston a short 
course of lectures (afterwards published) on the topics 
which lie between philosophy and theology. Not clauo- 
ing to be a prophet, I looked a^ the causes then in 
operation, and ventured to draw oat a map of the road which a 
certain clftM of o«r young men were taking. I described Unitarianism, 
80 full of lifls and hope an age ago, as dead and laid out for decent 
burial. Everybody saw, or was begiinring to see, that the system 

1 6o The Agnosticism of the Day. 


defended bj Cbanning, as founded on the Scriptures of the Old and 
Il'ew Testament, could not stand before an honest interpretation of 
these writings. Left without any Divine authority to uphold it, the 
creed was like the icicles we see on the roofs of our houses at this 
season — clear but cold, and not drawing our hearts towards it, and 
certain to melt away in the heat of a more fervent period ; but I 
intimated my fear that those left without any revelation from Heaven 
to stay them might go down the sliding-scale into a lower depth. 

The causes operated, and the anticipations I sketched have so far 
been realised. Our youth have tried to live in a certainly wide 
enough region supplied them by Herbert Spencer and his accom- 
plished disciple and expounder in this countiy, Mr. Fiske — the 
r^on of the unknowable to which they probably consign God and 
religion, where no one can see them, and where Professor Huxley has 
conveniently set up for them " worship chiefly of the silent sort," 
with no one to speak and no one to hear. But our active young men 
have felt a difficulty in living in a vacuum, and, seeking for some- 
thing more substantial, they fondly expect to find air and food in 
Materialism, which Professor Tyndall assures them has every sort of 
promise and potency. 

Meanwhile, there have been protests against this tendency, and 
persons have been eagerly clutching certain weak branches to stay 
their descent; but which, as they give way, will only, I fear, 
precipitate them the faster. Mankind have, after all, a deep under- 
lying belief in sometliing supernatural, which seems to be pervading 
and surrounding the whole of natural operation. Some one said that 
when men cease to believe in God they begin to believe in ghosts; 
and there are numbers who, in the felt want of anything better, have 
lent a favourable ear to spiritualists. Those who could not believe 
in Moses and the prophets, in Christ and His apostles, have listened 
eagerly to audible scribbling on concealed slates, which show, by 
their imbecility, that the spirits which return from the other world 
liave lost there the high ability which some of them possessed in thi» 
world. Those who could not believe that God sent His Son into the 
world to solve the enigma of the universe, and to show how man the 
sinner is to be reconciled to God the Holy Governor^ and how to be 
delivered from the bonds of iniquity, resolutely maintain that He 
sends spirits to untie the ropes which weak or cunning men and 
women have tied around themselves. 

The Agnosticism of the Day. 1 6 1 

A much nobler outlet has been opened for this craving after the 
divine and snpematnral. The beantifdl dreams of Emerson have 
been made to irradiate and gild a mysticism which has been brought 
from the East and supposed to be the light of Asia, and an ideal 
philosophy which has come with other emigrants from (rermany, 
where I know it is in danger of being starved, and many have 
resorted to this castle in the air. The Concord School, which is an 
annex of literary Boston, has just been strengthened by the resort 
thither of an able and a most estimable man, who has taken up 
Eegelianism after it had run and ended its course in Grermany. 
These philosophers open to us glorious views ; if not into heaven, at 
least into the clouds, gilded by the shining sun. I do rejoice in all 
they say so eloquently of the infinities, the eternities, the moralities, 
and the world of ideas. There are not only beauty and elevation ; 
there is also a truth in all these sentiments. But my rational nature 
requires me to know on what I am to ground my belief, and how I 
am to separate between the sober truth and the associated extrava- 
gances. This I can do only by carefully observing the laws of the 
mind after the manner of the true American and Scottish philosophy, 
or by following the revelation of God in His Word. 

Meanwhile, notwithstanding these side eddies, the deeper current 

is moving on. First, there was a doctrine of relativity, with which 

Mr. Herbert Spencer and Mr. Fiske start. According to the 

philosophy, we know nothing of things which may or may not have 

a reality. AU that we have are simply relations connecting unknown 

things — a bridge, with nothing to support it on either side. This has. 

prepared the way for what we used to call nescience and nihilism. 

bat which is now designated Agnosticism, which insists that nothing ; 

cau be known. But it is proverbial that nature is stronger than 

speculative theories, and will return, though repelled with a pitchfork. 

Its very advocates, though denjring that there is such a thing as mind 

or matter^ practically believe in such things as pleasures and pains;^. 

as money and position in society. What they regard as unknowable^ 

are simply God and good, immortality and a judgment-day. As the 

issue of this discussion, there are numbers of our young men who are 

nnable, or, at least, affect to be unable, to determine anything about 

divine, or spiritual, or even moral truths, and care about nothing 

more than catching the enjoyments of the hour ; but, meanwhile^ 

there is a higher nature within — a remnant and indication of their 


i62 The Son of Man revealing Himself as the Son of God. 

divine nature — ^which will not allow them to rest satisfied in Uieir 
present creed. They are made to feel that they have stalks £rom 
which the fruit has been pulled. Craving for substantial food, they 
would find it in Materialism, and would fain fill their belly with the 
husks which the swine do eat, only to find that thay axe '' in want/' 
with their hearts turning away from the repaat witii nausea and 
disgust. It is in this state of things that we find Pessimism pro- 
pagated and accepted by some as their only refuge. 

I am more hopeful of this hopeless state of things than of that self- 
satisfied, self-righteous one that went before. Hie bidl has reached 
its lowest point and struck against impenetrable adamant; and it is 
ready for a rebound. The time for reaction has come. We are at 
the darkest hour. I am lookiag for the sun to rise. We may now 
sow as they did in ancient Egypt, for the waters are receding, leaving 
a soil ready to nourish what is cast into it. I am this day to 
endeavour to put out of the wfiy an obstacle which is hindering many 
from accepting the truth. That obstaclei is Development, which is 
cherished by some and repelled by others, as supposed to be capable 
of carrying on Nature without the need of Gkxl. 

^\t ^m\ jof Ulan rekaling ^xm%M as t^£ S^n d <il0b.* 


ABBY yourselves back, in imagination, to the central 
moment of Chnst's work— 4he crisis in the histoiy 
il^^ of the world, the moment in which the Universal 
JS^ Chiirch was founded in heaven simultaneously with the 
^ Confession of Faith by St. Peter upon earth. On that 
day Christ was m exile. But yesterday He had been hailed as 
Messiah by the acclamations o{ His countrymen ; the patriots of 
Galilee had sought to crown Him aa their King ; even thjB Pharisees 
had, not so very long ago^ been disposed to welcome Hun as a possible 
pillar of the Law. Partly by the power of Hia presencfit, partly by 

* From a Senuon preached befoie the UzuYOXsil^ of Osfosdy 
February ITtli, 1878, by the Rev. Dr. Abbott, 

The Son of Man revealing Himself as the Son of God. 1 63 

His mighty works of healing, partly owing to the general expecta- 
tion of a deliverance. He had mounted at once into the recognised 
position of a great Prophet, if not the Deliverer of Israel But now 
all was changed. The official homage which His countrymen had 
paid to Him as the Meariah, and the political homage which was 
tendered to Him by the Galileans, He rated as nothing worth, and 
liad deliberately cast aside. The professional overtures erf the 
Pharisees He had even more abruptly rejected. The homage that 
came to Him from all quarters, as being a worker of miracles, came 
to ffim often against His will He would not attempt to work such 
miracles as they desired, tliough, in return for them, the united 
nation would have given Him their allegiance. Such signs as He 
did work He often worked in secret He would not suffer Himself 
to be made a King. Not as a King, nor as a Conqueror, nor as a 
Worker of wonders, but as the Son of Man, as " a Man of sorrows and 
acquainted with grief," He lived and moved among His disciples, strip- 
ping, as it were, from their conception of Himself everything official and 
adventitious, and leaving them to love Him aad worship Him only for 
Himself and in Himself — ^as Man, simply as the Sjon of Man. But 
when the disciples were now duly prepared, and the pre-ordained 
hour was come for founding the Universal Church, then it came to 
piLss that Jesus led the disciples away from the borders of Galilee 
into the parts round about Csesarea ; and there, in a heathen land, 
hard by the cave of Pau, gazing into the temple of Csesar Augustus, 
with everything around Him to discourage and to repress His fol- 
lowers, and with nothing but Himself to give them confidence. He, 
an outcast, the rejected of Israel, began to question His disciples, 
calling Himself not the Son of God, nor Christ, nor Messiah, but only 
'Son of Man, and saying, " Whom say ye that I, the Son of Man, 
am ? *' Then, when the disciples searched their hearts to consider 
what answer they might tndy make, they perceived that, though 
Jesus of Nazareth would not be the King of the Gahleans, though He 
would work no sign for them in heaven, though He seemed to break 
the Sabbath, though He were rejected by all Israel — yea, even by 
those who sat in Moses' seat — ^yet, for aU that. He had become unto 
them as the vesy breath of their life, and without Him they were not 
ahle to live, so that their hearts replied to Him in the words of the 
I^ludonst, " Whom have we i& heaven but Thee % and tbero is none 

upon eartli that we desize in oomparison with Thee.** Thus^in that 


1 64 The San of Man revealing Himself as the San af Gad. 

instant, the dormant germ of faith which had been lying undeveloped 
in the hearts of men since man was first created — ^the faith or 
hope that, after all, and in spite of all appearances to the contrary, 
righteousness may be might — ^this faith, I say, quickened by the life 
and teaching and presence of Jesus of Nazareth, sprang up in the 
hearts of the disciples^into a new and fruitful life, taking new and 
indestructible shape in the confession of St. Peter, their spokesman, 
that the righteous Son of Man was also the mighty Son of God. Thus 
were the disciples led through the worship of the Son^of Man to the 
worship of the Son of God — ^and this by the Teacher Jof teachers, by 
Jesus of Nazareth Himself. 

May it not be that, in the history of the] Church after apostolic 
times, some similar process is to be traced, whereby Christ is detach- 
ing us from merely official^worship, and leading us to adore, not His 
office, but EQmself ? In the early and middle ages of the Church, all, 
or almost all, worshipped Jesus as the Lord ; but did they not unduly 
ignore His human nature ? If they worshipped Him at all as human, 
it was as the little Childlin the arms of the Virgin Mother ; so that, 
as an inevitable consequence, much of the worship was diverted to 
the mother from the Son« Otherwise, they worshipped Him, not 
as the Man of sorrows, acquainted with the griefs and sins of men, 
but as the Worker of wonders on earth, or the inexplicable Suflferer 
on the Cross, or the future Judge from heaven. Even in the Beformed 
Church, love and loyalty to the Lord Jesus were too often lost in the 
adoration of His vicarious sacrifice, and He was too often regarded as 
naught but the Centre of a great system of theology. It need not be 
said that there were exceptions to this rule — saintly souls in every 
age whom Christ drew towards Himself with a personal and passion- 
ate faith which may well put most modem faith to shame. But as 
to the great masses of men it may be maintained, without fear of 
contradiction, that their fiedth was of a coarser nature, much like the 
faith of the multitudes who hailed Jesus as Messiah on His first 
appearance in Galilee. 

There are signs that now, in this generation, we in England are 
approaching a'crisis in which we may expect some new manifestation 
of Christ, and consequently also the disappearance of some old 
illusion. For Christ is no longer worshipped in this countiy with a 

The Son of Man revealing Himself as the Son of God. 165 

(manimous, scarcely even with a general, worship. As He was 
rejected in old times by the Scribes and students of the Law of Moses, 
so is He rejected in these days by a certain section of the students of 
the laws of Nature, and on somewhat similar grounds. ** He destroyeth 
the Law of Moses, and is not needful for the attainment of righteous- 
ness" said the Scribes and Pharisees. ''He interferes with our 
system ; He is not necessaiy for the attainment of scientific truth ; 
His existence is contrary to the laws of Nature," cry the Scribes of 
modem times; both chaiges strictly parallel, and equally false. 
Again, as He was rejected in former times by the multitude of His 
countrymen and by the Galilean patriots, so is He rejected at this 
present time by multitudes of the poor, and by some of the educated 
and philanthropic. " Why doth He not free John the Baptist ? Why 
doth He not cast out the Bomans ? " asked the one. '' Why does He 
not destroy disease?** asks the other. ^Why does He suffer His 
followers to become a prey to schism, to discord, and to war ?*"•«. 
Thus, from various causes, all who worship Christ, not with their com- 
bined faculties, but with the brain alone ; all those who worship Him, 
not for Himself, but for what they may get from Him — all these 
seem to be parting from Christ, and Christ seems to be leaving us, 
and casting behind Him our official worship, and going away from us 
into the wilderness alone. 

Brethren, let us pray^that we may have grace toffoUow our Master 
tliither ; and gathering around Him there, casting aside the critical 
spirit, let us be content to sit awhile patiently at His feet, gazing up 
in reverence at His face, if, perchance, through faith and trust we may 
attain to some apprehension of His nature ; and;there in the wilder- 
ness, if need be, let us wait till the grace of God shall enable us to 
make answer to that question which it is the supreme object of cur 
lives to answer aright : '' Whom say ye that I, the Son of Man, 

Take with you into the wilderness of probation all aids and 
appliances to faith ; the Bible first ; then prayer — ^prayer, patient and 
regular, in spite of apparent)|failure — sprayer that shall knock success- 
fully in the end at the unyielding doors of your own stubborn and 
iiftithless hearU Take with you thoughts of home and of home-life ; 
and, as the years roll on, take, as your hearts will bid yon^ the 
prayerful memory of the blessed dead ; take a spirit of reverence and 
humiUty, and a resolute determination not to dislocate your life by 

1 66 ** Give Peace in our time^ O Lord ! " 

giving up the use of public worship, suspending your judgment, and 
waiting awhile until age and experience may help you to ascertain 
whether new life may not be breathed into new phrases. ... If 
you will do this, there need be no fear for the ultimate result. Tlie 
Son of Man, through whom you strive to contemplate all things in 
heaven and on earth, shall sanctify all your influences for good. The 
stars in their courses shall fight for you. In spite of seeming retro- 
gressions, Christ shall guide you still onward and upward ; and each 
year, as it develops in you the faculties of manhood, shall develop in 
you also His growing presence. Eaised above all fears, doubts, and 
misgivings as to the final triumph of the Supreme Grood, you shall 
receive and retain the conviction of St. Peter daily deepened in your 
heart, that there is none in heaven but Christ and the Father whom 
He hath revealed, and none on earth whom you may desire in com- 
parison with Him. Then, when you worship Christ as one with 
God, you wiU not be timidly using an old form of words which, for 
old associations' sake, you would not willingly give up ; but you will 
be expressing a faith which will have become a part of your very 
being — that Jesus of Nazareth sums up in Himself, and verily is, the 
Eternal Word of God, the King of kings and Lord of lords ; and that, 
as He hath already subjected death to His own glory, enthroning 
Himself by means of death in the affections of mankind, so shall He 
also, in the far-off future, make sin itself and every other evil sulv 
servient to His eternal purposes — to the end that, rising upon the 
altar eteps of this mysterious world, through illusion, through death, 
and through sin, the imperfect children of men may ascend at last to 
the perfection of the Father in heaven. 


(Sifaje ipiart in out ixmt, # ITxrrir ! " 

O L(MKD oy Pbacb, wbo'it Lord of Ri^teoiimes?, 
Constrain the angaiahed waddfl Jbom flin and ahame. 
Pieice them with conficience ; pu];ge them with redteas ; 
And give us Peace which is no counterfeit. 

E. B. Baowiniro. 


^t ^tMhsm of C&risiiamtg ia i^t |puman ^inir. 

N whatever aspect it may be viewed, CliriBtianity claims an 
authority, and assumes an importance, to which no other 
institution, whether human or Divine, has ever pre- 
tended. Whether regarded as a revelation of truth, or as a 
law of conduct, it is great beyond precedent, and grand 
beyond comparison. Paganism was more splendid in its ceremonials ; 
Jadaism was more severe in its ritual ; Mohammedanism is more 
unbridled in its liberty. But the splendour of Paganism was super- 
ficial ; the severity of Judaism was temporary ; and the liberty of 
Mdiammedanism is licentious. Just as Jesus, "the Author and 
Finisher of our Faith," was exalted by His wisdom. His virtues, and 
His grand spiritual achievem^Qts, above all the princes, the philan- 
thropists, or the heroes of the world, so are the simple doctrines 
which he propounded, exalted above all the theories, the speculations, 
the dogmas^ or the maxims which have been embodied in the creeds, 
the books, or the teachings of men. He " spake aa never man spake," 
and His words will command more reverence than all the utterances 
of former or subsequent ages ; and will live — ^the dictates and the 
promises of men — ^when the proudest discoveries of science and the 
loftiest attainments of learning shall have been forgotten. 

That^ however, which is at once the basis of its claims and the 
sooroe of its influence is the spirit of hve by which it is distinguished, 
and in the manifestation and application of which it consists. 
Christianity, thou^ majestic as heaven, is not cold in its dignity. 
It iQelts into tenderness whilst it awes into worship. Its splendour 
is not of that fierce g^are which dazzles, but of that gentle 
radiance which sobduea. It is founded in benevolence, and it works 
V benefactoiB, It does not win its triumphs by imposing severe 
exactions, but by scattering piulifio gifts. Its operations are the 
devek^nnents of " grace." 

Jesos Ghiiat, in His person^ His teachings, and His life, is the 
soQice of the power which Christianity wields. He has created by 
His sacrifices the varied blessings which it bestows ; and in His 

1 68 The Relations of Christianity to the Human Mind. 

authority and His love we have the pledges of their certain com- 
munication. He is the model of its spirit, the author of its wisdom, 
the impersonation of its charms. On Him faith indulges its repose^ 
and from Him hope gathers its inspiration. Courage, sympathy, 
devotion ; remembrance of mercies past, and anticipation of mercies 
to come ; patience in the endurance of wrong, and perseverance in 
Uie discharge of duty ; the maintenance of personal virtues, and the 
enjoyment of fraternal attachments, must be sought through Him 
and ascribed to Him, 

We propose to make a few remarks on the relation in which 
Christianity stands to the human mind. Of the importance of this 
subject none can entertain a doubt. Anything which affects the 
interests, the experiences, or the destiny of man is worthy of serious 
contemplation; whilst there is no aspect in which the Gk)spel of 
Jesus Christ can be viewed which does not claim our reverential 
regard. When the ties, then, which associate these two most solemn 
and majestic powers are made' the topic of reflection, carelessness 
must be grossly out of place. It is a delicate task to state with 
precision the afBnities which they sustain to each other; delicate, 
partly from their separate grandeur and importance, and partly from 
the mistakes which many have made on the subject. Some have 
exalted the mind above all authority, refusing to admit dependence 
on any revelation, and have thus denied the most solemn assertions 
and implications of the Gospel. Others, yielding, perhaps, to the 
impulses of a grateful but too ignorant faith, have exalted Christianity 
to the depreciation of their own capacities, and have spoken as 
though it superseded the functions of reason entirely. Both these 
are sad and baneful exaggerations, the result either of pride or of 
prejudice, and always of inattention to some of the plainest dictates 
of truth. Let us endeavour to strike the balance between these 
accounts, and to show in what position the human mind is placed, 
and how its character and interests are affected by the revelations 
which have been given to us by Jesus Christ our Lord. 

We observe, then, in the first place, that, constitutionallj, the 
human mind is not affected by Christianity. Its individual faculties 
are neither annihilated nor multiplied ; no new power is conferred ; 
no existing power is modified. OofMeieMit is not dethroned. Jieruon 
is robbed of none of its agencies for inquiry or its weapons of warfare. 
Imagination is not stripped of its sparkling robe, nor deprived of its 

The ReUUiom of Christianity to the Human Mind. 1 69 

restless wings. Memory is not supeiseded by a more sublime or 
comprehensive endowment. Neither are any of the relations of these 
poweis disturbed. Their mutual co-operation is as needful, and their 
combined influences are as important, after conversion as before. 
Ima||;ination is still to be preserved from wildness by the restraints 
of a sober judgment ; whilst the dry pursuits of reason are to be 
lelieved by the gayer indulgences of fiEuicy. The Christian, as well 
as the man, is to be kept from unhealthy absorption in the past by 
the incessant activity of conscience ; and duty is not allowed to 
become burdensome, inasmuch as it is mingled with the elevating 
pleasures of reflection. 

Indeed, so far from repealing the privileges or displacing the 
associations of the mind, Christianity presents new themes for its 
contemplation, and new opportunities for its exercise. It brings 
ptofound mysteries which may stimulate thought; it is based on 
evidences which can be discovered and appreciated only by research. 
It embodies doctrines which a clear understanding will readily 
embrace; and it records events which a diligent memory must retain. 
It is adorned with poetiy by which the imagination of the listiess 
may be awakened, and with which the taste of the most refined must 
be gratified; and it is rendered solenm by precepts and sanctions 
which may well make any conscience to tremble. 

There is some instruction here for all classes. To those who bring 
objections to Christianity on the ground of its non-adaptation to the 
human mind — who reproach its obvious simplicity on the one hand, 
and its unfathomable mysteries on the other — ^we would say. You 
have made a great mist^e. That which you plead as a proof that 
the Gospel is not adapted to man is evidence of its beautiful adapta- 
tion. It is simple ; but this enables it to afford repose for the mind, 
and brings it within the reach of the unlearned. It is mysterious ; 
else it would supply no food for hope, and no stimulus to intellectual 
exertion. In these respects, it resembles that other Book written by 
the same infallible Hand, and published in an earlier age — the great 
Book of Nature. Nature, too, is simple. The light needs no chemical 
preparation for its enjoyment ; the air requires no analysis before it 
loay be breathed. The heavens impress all vrith their splendour ; the 
flowers fascinate all by their beauty. It needs no study to feel that 
the mountain is migestie, or that the thunder \a terrible. The ocean's 
grandeur is discovered without inquiry ; the breeae's melody is under- 

170 The Relations of Chrishanity to the Human Mind. 

stood without the aid of ait. Learning does not reveal the savage 
stateliness of the rock ; genius does not unfold the delicate tints of 
the rainbow. Yet all these excite the admiration, the delight, or the 
awe of men. And Nature has her mysteries likewise — ^mysteries 
which no research can expound. Deep and awfiil secrets there are 
which no ingenuity or patient investigation can unbosom. Yet we 
are not repelled from the temples where her altars are built ; and 
philosophers and poets are equally entranced by the wonders she 
presents to their view. Why should Christianity be distrusted for 
the characteristics which give to Nature her glory ? 

Others, however, make an opposite mistake. To all worthy descrip- 
tions of the greatness of the human mind — ^to the revelations of 
science — ^to the aspirations of intellect — to the indulgence of the 
imagination — ^they refuse their confidence, as though these were only 
corrupting or vain. They say, " Only let us know that we are saved, 
and what to us are learning and genius ? " What, indeed ? Use 
them aright, and they will give zest to your contemplations, dignity 
to your behaviour, utility to your exertions, delicacy to your sympathies, 
and a hallowed serenity to your worship. They make promise more 
trustworthy, example more fascinating, precept more sacred, doctrine 
more credible. They take the gloss from sophistry, the magic from 
superstition, and the poison from error. They impart radiance to 
satisfaction, calmness to anxiety, grandeur to ecstacy, energy to hope, 
stability to resolve. They throw a subdued illumination over the 
page which enshrines the law of your ccmduct and the revelation of 
your destiny ; they deck the past in new and more captivating attrac- 
tions, and clothe the future with the charm of certainty, of glory, and 
of peace. He who disparages the powers of the mind that he may 
prove his reverenoe for the Gospel, is as unworthy of tiie distinctions 
of the one as he miserably misapprehends the nature of the oAer. 

Not only, however, does Christianity leave the faculties of the miod 
undisturbed, but it cannot be diatged with the responsibility of its 
condition. There can be no question that Christianity reflects severely 
upon the character of man. It bases its appeals upon miseries which 
it affirms to have been self-acquired. The depravity of the human 
heeot is the argument by which it justifies its misuon. * There is 
none that death good — ^no, not one," is the text from which it 
demw its plea, and by wfaidi it vindicates its anzieus and universal 
inteifnenoe. These representations of the chai«ctar of man are 

The Relations of Christianity to the Human Mind. 1 7 1 

historical, not malicious. Gbm^hmtj finds man in this state. God 
does not create difficulty to show skill and power in weraming it. 
There is no problem which He cannot solve — no impediment which 
He cannot remove — ^no opposition which He cannot overthrow* 
These opportunities of display are embraced by Him, but they are not 
courted. The necessity of the Gospel must prove the Gospel, and not 
the Gospel assume and assert its own necessity. Christianity does 
not say, " All men are depraved, because Christ came to save sinners." 
It says, ** Christ came to save sinners, because all men have sinned 
and need salvation." Instead of being blamed for the degraded con- 
dition of the world, it is to be praised for all that is hopeful, useful, 
and good in it. It is the salt that preserves from corruption — ^not the 
tainting medium, as many say. It is the physician that describes and 
attacks the disease — ^not its occasion. 

That the disorder exists you cannot doubt, if you read history and 
Iwk around you instead of involving yourselves in metaphysical 
debate. Amid all that is noble in man, there is this degradation ; 
amid all that is beautiful, there is this dark spot ; amid all that is 
mighty, there is this weakness ; over all that is splendid, there is this 
gloomy doud. Intellect is perverted to the invention or the defence 
of enor ; conscience is wrested to the justification, or disqualified for 
the detection of crime ; memory is loaded with shame ; imagination 
grovels in the vulgar; ambition is devoted to iniquity; love is 
poisoned with envy ; even worship is polluted with selfishness. 

On the other hand, all that can give purity, honour, and happiness 
to life, and all that can render a blessed immortality certain, is brought 
to light by the Gospel. " Godliness is profitable unto all things," and 
the Chiistiaai life is the highest form of godliness. 

See its bearing upon the spiritual character and pursuits of men» 
What ooeupation does it afford for the intellect I It proclaims the 
^wfU impotrtance of truthy and the power of conviction over experi- 
ence. Ilnis reason ceases to be r^foded as a toy, and is seen to be 
invested with a solemn responsibility. What stimulus does it 
^ministet to the vigilance, what quickening to the power, of con- 
scienoet It points to the great remedy for depravity whether 
iidierited or acquired. It makes sin appear repulsive, and gives to 
^^e the additional charm of holiness. See its influence upon 
imagniBtion, holding out pictttres of heaven, dux»wing oter the future 
the halo of its own magnificence, and bringing in the inspirations and 

172 The ReiaHons of Christianity to the Human Mind. 

restraints of faith. Ambition is etnnobled into the desire to be nsefiiL 
Disappointment is neutralised by the assurance of advantage. Orief 
has no sting; joy no snare. Death blights no hope; separation 
destroys no fellowship. Worship is no longer presented to ''the 
Unknown God." Prayer, whilst the utterance of desire, is the indul- 
gence of trust. Obedience has the inspiration of gratitude. Devotion 
glows with the fervour of love. Eveiy boast is the protest of 
humilily ; every thanksgiving is the confession of dependence. Hope 
builds on a surer foundation ; praise resounds with a louder song. 

And iJiU is life. To think without sophistry, to believe vdthout 
eiTor, to imagine without absurdity, to aspire without vanity, to 
regret without despair, to love without idolatry, to pray without 
presumption, to serve without avarice, to hope without solicitude, to 
trust without indolence, to wait without impatience, to suffer without 
discontent, to sacrifice without reluctance — ^tlus is life; and such 
life is brought to light only by the Gospel. 

It is from the same source that we obtain our best evidence of, and 
our best preparation for, immortality. To an intelligence so noble 
as man, with capacities so great and with aspirations so high, were 
it not for the mystery of Death the thought of annihilation would 
never occur, or, if it did occur, would be rejected as an absurdity. 
But what has become of those who are gone ? We cannot draw a^de 
the veil which hides them from our view ; we cannot unravel the 
mystery of their doom. Amid this silence so utter, in this mist so 
dense, we ask .* — ^" K a man die, shall he live again ? '' Not knowing 
where they are, not seeing what they do, we wonder whether they 
still exist, and conceive the dismal possibility that their death was their 
extinction. Speculation has only made the problem more perplexing, 
lieason has only served to show how deep is the darkness. Genius, 
yea, even instinct may realise the hope of eternal life ; but every-day 
facts discourage it Until Christ appeared, the whole world was lost 
in appalling and remediless uncertainty on the subject nearest to its 
heart Philosophers had recorded their speculations ; but they con- 
fessed in every age and in every land that " the wish was father to 
the thought" Poets embodied th^ dreams in song ; but when the 
music ceased, the world relapsed into its ancient melaodioly. The 
immortality ci the old religions was, in fact, no immortali^ at alL 
But before Christ left the earth. He gave a solution to the inystery 
which the most downcast sceptic need not doubt, and announced a 

The Relations of Chrtstianify to the Human Mind. 1 73 

destiny for man, in which the hnmblest and the greatest may alike 
rejoice. He, too, died ; He died entirely. As never man more 
assuredly lived than Christ, so never man more assuredly died. His 
enemies vindictively rejoiced over His death ; His friends only 
thought of His tomb with consternation and despair. But He rose 
again — JETe, the same Jesus, who once had groaned with a loud voice 
—who had bowed His head — ^who had given up the ghost. He 
came forth firom the grave ; not a new creation, but a restoration — 
redeemed from death by the power of Immortality. And now He is 
in Himself a demonstration of His own majestic words : " I am the 
Besnrrection and the life." Blessed Saviour, we accept the testimony ; 
we aooq^ it, and rejoice — we rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of 
gloiy. " Though the earthly house of this our tabernacle be dissolved, 
we have a building of God, a house not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens." Yes, thou victorious Prince — ^the Captain of our 
Salvation ! we trust Thy gracious word, that " whosoever beUeveth 
in Thee, though he were dead, yet shall he live;" and in the 
gratitude of that faith we consecrate that life and immortality which 
Thou hast brought to light to Thy service and Thy praise. 

Thus, then, Christianitiy is the great revelation of mercy. It 
changes nothing that truly ennobles or delights us. It creates nothing 
that d^rades or afflicts us. The powers that glorify our nature it 
has left unrepealed; — ^rather has it invested them with higher 
authority^ and enlarged the sphere of their operation. The sins that 
have disgraced our character and embittered our experience were 
committed, not only without its instigation, but in violation of its 
pure spirit Finding us polluted, it directs us to the fountain set 
open for all sin and undeanness. Finding us guilty, it proclaims 
the method and the condition of pardon. Finding us miserable, it 
will banish our remorse, and will heal our wounds. Finding us 
gioveUing in gloom, it wiU shed over us a rich and ever brightening 
illumination. Finding us shivering with the fear of death, it will 
give to us the steadfast assurance of immortality and heaven. 

Sudy our gratitude to Gk>d should bear some adequate proportion 
to His mercy to us. Our lives should tell how we love Him. Let 
us be devout in our service, intelligent in our convictions, and 
constant in our zeaL Let no carnality degrade our thoughts, no 
selfishness restrain our devotion, no fear obscure our faith. Then 
He who has brought our life to light will crown that life with His 

1 74 Practical Hints to the Members of our Churches, 

goodness. Then He who has made our inimoTtality ceitaiii will 
sweeten it with His fellowship and glorify it widi His gloiy. 


^radical Ijints f0 % gUmlrers of our Cj^t^ts • 

By the Iate Bsy. Jambs Webb. 

EAR BRETHEEN ,— The following address, as some of yon 
know, originated in a resolution passed at your last annual 

As no special topic was recommended to the writer, he 
will, agreeably with the title which this communication 
bears, submit to your candid attention some practical suggestions. 

With a few exceptions, we had to regret the state of our churches 
as reported in their several letters. While the sovereignty of €rod, in 
the effusion of the Holy Spirit, is, without doubt, displayed in His 
conduct towards the Church, yet, we think, that recurrence to this 
fact should be the hui^ and not the fmi^ method of accounting for the 
absence of spiritual prosperity. If a close and serious investiga- 
tion could detect no other hindrances to its enjoyment, perhaps 
Christian societies mi^t justly trace their d^ressed oondition to 
Divine sovCTeignty. We need not remind you that, when tins course 
is faithfully pursued, they will seldom have occasion to extend their 
researches beyond their own sphere. Usually the causes of moral 
depression will strike the attentive eye long before it fixes on the 
sovereign throne of God* Into those causes which may obstruct 
your prosperity the writer does not design to institute a minute 
examination. He will, indeed, make no further reference to them 
than the purpose he contemplates may require ; for he esteems it a 
more grateful task to px>ffer advice than tx) pass censure. 

Christian churches, to " prosper and be in health," must consist of 
Christians imbued with the spirit which the Gk»pdl broatiieB, and 

• These *' Practical Hints" were addressed by onr departei brother to the 
** Members of the Chnrches composing the Leicestershire Baptist Ajasociation," in 
183& They are at timely now as they were fort^ years ago, and tike Editor ia 
glud to be i^k ti^zepiiBt them. 

Practical Hints to the Members of our Churches. 1 75 

devoted to the work which the Gospel enjoins : so *' the glory of 
Lebanon," in the beauty it displays, and the fragrance it breathes, 
depends on the verdure and firuitfulness of the individual trees of 
which it is composed. Owing to various circumstances that need not 
here be mentioned, the age in which our lot is cast is distinguished 
l)y great mercantile competition and political excitement. In con- 
sequence, it is not without difficulty that we shall be able justly to 
balance the respective churns of time and eternity — ^to preserve our 
secular interests, maintain and extend our political rights, and, like- 
wise, " give diligence to make our caUing and election sure." We 
entreat you, dear brethren, never to merge " the powers of the world 
to come " in the transient concerns of the present life. We must not 
bury the gems of Christian excellence beneath even golden dust, nor 
dim their chastened splendour by needless contact with a world that 
*' lieth in wickedness.'' But we do not advocate that morbid sensi- 
tiveness which scrupulously shrinks from the discharge of civil and 
political duties. We are not to neglect those secular obligations in 
fulfilling which we may possibly be exposed to temptation, but, in 
their performance, to " see that we walk circumspectly." Still, let our 
society be chosen, our friendships formed, and our alliances made 
among " the aaints that are in the earth, in whom," says one who 
could have had prinoes for his chosen friends, " is aU my delight." 

We fear that, amid the hurry and bustle of life, the important and 
beuejficial duties of a careful perusal of the Holy Scriptures, self- 
examination, and secret prayer are often but imperfectly discharged. 
Unless we are guided by the Divine Word we shall wander ; if we 
walk not in the son^-light of truth, our way must be dark and dreary. 
If we neglect to commune with our own hearts, and our spirits do 
not make diligent search, we shall be lamentably deficient in that sort 
of knowledge which is suited to give depth to our penitence, spring 
to our gratitude, and decision to our character. If we do not often 
"enter into our dosets, and pray to our Father which is in secret," 
our pdety will be stunted in its growth, and our efforts fieeble in their 
influence. . " Let the word of Christ dwell in us richly in all wisdom; " 
let our suppIieafeioQQs at ''the throne of gmce" be frequent and 
fervent ; in fine, let our intellects be lit with the truth of God, and 
our hea]1;$ warmed with His lore, and we shall hallow the enterprises 
in which we embaxk, and ^ the shield of salvation " will preserve us 
fram danger. 

176 Practical Hints to the Members of our Churches. 

Out religion must operate in our homes as well as our hearts. 

If Christians do "shine as lights in the world/' the brightest 
effulgence will be shed in the spheres most open to their influence. 

The letter from one of our churches regretted that the instances 
of decided conversion to Grod among the youthful part of the con- 
gregation, and especially among the children of the pious, were so 
few. We are afraid that other churches have reason to deplore the 
same fact. '' Is there not a cause ? " Is that cause, in addition to the 
depravity of the human heart, to be found in the want of affectionate 
solicitude, and simple and pointed preaching, on the part of those to 
whose ministry our youth listen ? or in the fact that they are not, to 
a sufficient extent, '' brought up in the nurture and admonition of the 
Lord?" Perhaps partly in each. Ministerial effort ahould be 
assiduously directed to the rising generation, and particularly to the 
ofi&pring of the pious: it is from these classes, chiefly, that our 
churches will be replenished. But it is from the sedulous labours of 
pious parents that we expect the bestowment of the greatest good 
upon their ofibpring. If these efforts, however, almost exclusively 
consist in summoning their children once or twice a day to the 
domestic altar, they are meagre and insufficient. 

But, while such means simply are mournfully defective, there are, 
we fear, cases in which even this most obvious duty is disr^arded. 
A host of excuses may be pleaded to palliate the negligence ; but let 
such parents, in order to ascertain the due value of such pretences, 
contrast them with the command of God, their own dread responsi- 
bility, the worth of their children's souls, and the certain nuschiefe 
that must come upon a household in which no altar is builded to the 
Lord. Those excuses which, one feels assured, could not be pleaded 
before the " great white throne," should not be allowed to pass at the 
bar of conscience : what, dying, we could not approve, let us not, 
living, adopt. Although we think professing Christians would be 
greatly culpable to slight this means of promoting the spiritual 
welfare of their ofbpring, we again remind them that such means 
alone are not sufficient to constitute religious education. If those 
who sustain the responsible relationship of parents were frequently 
to converse with their children on religious subjects ; if they often 
reminded them of their frailty and immortality, of their pollution and 
guilt ; if again and again they pointed them to ** the Lamb of God," 
and, with deep and tender earnestness, besought them to flee to His 

Pr actual Hints to the Members of our Churches. iii 

Cross from " the wrath to come ; " and if these constant exertions, and 
holy yearnings of parental hearts, were combined with a practical 
exhibition, within the social circle, of "the beauties of holiness/' 
would Christian parents have so often to mourn the indifference of 
their of&pring to the concerns of eternity ? Would they not rather 
have to rejoice that their " sons were as plants grown up in their 
yoath ; that their daughters were as comer-stones polished after the 
similitude of a palace " ? 

If these lines should meet the eye of young persons privileged with 
pious parents, but in whose steps they do not tread, the writer 
digresses, for a moment, to beseech such to ask themselyes why they 
are not prepared to say concerning the Lord, in the beautiftd language 
of Moses* song, " He is my fathei's God, and I will exalt Him ! " 
Dear young friends, when sides are being formed for eternity, will 
you sin against God, grieve the hearts of those who gave you birth, 
rob yourselves of present happiness, and ruin your souls for ever by 
taking the wrong one ? Do not hold yourselves guiltless in neglect- 
ing " so great salvation." Say not, " If in the sanctuary truth had 
been presented to us in a more attractive form ; if, in our immediate 
circles, we had seen a lovelier display of its influence ; if parental 
▼aming had been more solemn, and parental entreaty more affection- 
ate, we had long since given ourselves to the Lord." Alas, you know 
not your own hearts ! It is their depravity which is the great obstacle 
to your salvation ; and the attempt to transfer the blame of your 
disregard to eternal realities from yourselves to others is but an effort 
of that depravity to bind around you stiU faster its massive chain. 
Say not, we entreat you, " Since we cannot save ourselves, since eternal 
life is the free gift of God, our solicitude and our efforts with regard 
to ii can profit us nothing." True, the work of the Bedeemer is the 
meritorious cause of salvation, and it is freely given by Him ** who is 
rich in mercy." But are not these facts calculated to nourish ho\j 
anxiety and encourage you to ** labour for that meat which endureth 
nnto everlasting life " ? Will you venture to plead the sacrifice of 
Calvary as an excuse for '' standing all the day idle " ? Will you find 
in the freedom of eternal mercy reasons to excuse yourselves in 
liardening your hearts ? This were to convert honey into gall — ^to 
extract death from life ; this were to avail yourselves of the bright 
beams which " the Sim of Righteousness " sheds for the purpose of 

enabling you to trace, with unerring certainty, your course to 


1 78 Practical Hints to the Members, of our ChurcAes. 

*' the Wfl/>lgiMipfl of daxikness." We yearn over yoa ia tender afEection. 
Loll no^ your aoula. oa some pernicious notion into the sleep of 
death. Make oonfiession of your ain before God, and seek that 
mercy which, though hitherto slighted. He yet waiteth. to show. 
If yojtt dieriah indifiGarence yau must perish.;, if you " arise and go 
to your Father" "He will turn agoin^ He will have compassion 
ujK>n you." 

This digression, from the importance of the topic referred to, the 
writer trusts will be excused. Ha now resumes the train of his 

Two elements in the prosperity of Christian churches, we perceive, 
axe personal devotedness to Gk)d and the culture of domestic piety. 
Let us seek to carry the same spirit into the Sanctuary. Churches 
cannot be in a flourishing state, if public worship, associations for 
prayer, church meetings, and the ordinance, of the Lord's Supper be 
lightly esteemed. Some of the members of our churches, who may 
be situated two or three miles distant fmn the place wh»» they 
^' ought to worship^' had rather renudn at ease beneath their own 
roofs than '' go into the house of the Lord." The feelings of such 
persons can be little in unison with those of the Psalmist when he 
•exclaimed, "How amiable are Thy tabernacles, Lord of hosts!" 
For their own homes seem more lovely in their estimation than the 
'Chosen habitation of their God. Others Cimtent themselves with 
attendance on the public worship of the Lord's-day OTiee. These 
individuals appear desirous to reduce tha solemnities of the Sabbath 
to their TMrnimvan,^ What sympathy have they with the devout 
sentiment of the inspired vnriter just quoted, '' For a DAT in Thy 
<»urts is better than a thousand"? That physical uicapacity, or 
the pressure of domestic circumstances, does, in some cases, render 
partial or entire absence from the public services of religion blame- 
less, we readily allow ; our censures are directed against those 
whose consciences^ if '' sufiEered to speak out," would pronounce them 
■** without excuse." 

We suspect that tha hearts of some of our. pastors are often grieved 
by witnessing the cold and worldly spirit of many entrusted to Uieir 
•charge; their lingering attendance at meetings held to offer the 
prayers of the Church, transact its business, and celebrate the death 
of its Lord. In whatever society these evils in any considerable 
degree exist, it must decline; or if, under such circumstances, there 

Hints i9 ike Afemiefs o/Mr' Churches. 1^79 

be peace, it will be tiie qnkt of death ; and if pix^petity, emneljiing 
Undred to that rank luxnrianee which, in certain oUmatee, emcceeds 
the decay of i^egetable crabstanceB. Shotdd any peimse these pages 
whose deportment has been marked by the inconsistenoiee hebe animad- 
verted on, we beeeeeh them to '' consider theb ways/' In pursi&ing 
this line of conduct, do yon giv« to the claims' of things eternal and 
imseen the pre-eminence they merit ? Instead of being '' the siUt of 
the earth," are ydu not a source of decay to the Church ? While you 
should be ** burning and shining lights," are you not rather only 
yielding that feeble flame which flickers on the point' of extinction ? 
What estimate do yoU' take of obligation ? What views do you form 
of privilege ? Do you thus honour precepts sustained by the weight 
of Xmmanuers throne, and commended to you by " the blood of His 
<m)8s " ? Arise, brethren, '' repent, ahd do the first works." '^ It is 
high time to awake out of deep, for now is your salvation nearer tihan 
when ye believed" Yea, since we have all, in some measure, 
^slumbered," let us all awake and rouse ourselves to more vigorous 
ex»tions. Have any of us " done what we could " to subserve the 
spiritual welfare of the churches^ to "v^hieh we respectively belong, 
and to convert " from the error of their waye" the hosts of sinners 
that surroimd us ? Do any inquire. What shall we do ? The answer 
is easy. A thousand doors of labour stand open ; we have only to 
enteri We recommend you, dear brethren, to speak freely with your 
fellow-men about 'Hhe common salvation" ; entreat them to seek in 
the Saviour '' a refiige from the storm " ; encourage them to cast in 
their lot with the Church ; say to them, " Come with us, and we will 
do you good, for the Lord hath spoken good concerning Israel." We 
beg to advise an effective distribution of tracts ; let them be put in 
circalation, in so far as it is practicable, by those whose reception of 
the truth fits them to speak " a word in due season." In the districts 
and villages connected with our several churches prayer^meetingB, 
might be established, sermons read on the evening of the Lord's«<[ay, 
or preached by brethren qualified in that way to impart instructicBi. 
We would further venture to recommend that, in each such district 
or village, a suitable member l>e appointed by the pastor and deaoens^ 
to watch over his fellow-members, to superintend' any efforta which 
mig^ be made to promote its spiritual welfare, dnd, .occasionally, to 
report its state at the meetings of the church. The writer feds a 

deep penTuasiott tliafc if systematie efforts tA this kind, or of any other 


X 8o Practiced Hints to the Members of our Churches. 

which was iftmtable, were peiseveied in, and commended by '' prayer 
and supplication " to '' the Lord of the harvest/' our churches would 
soon have to rejoice over many a desert that should '' blossom as the 
rose/' and whose fruit should '' shake like Lebanon." 

With a remark or two, in relation to our societies in their associate 
capacity, we hasten to dose this address. 

The great objects for which churches unite we should aim to keep 
steadily in view. Among these objects we cordially recognise the 
united cdebration of public worship, the reciprocation of Christian 
8]rmpat}iy and affection, the ministration of counsel to societies that 
seek it, and (circumstances justifying the measure) the supply of 
pecuniary aid to those which need it But, perhaps, the principed 
end for which an association ought to exist yet remains to be noticed 
— viz., the extension of the Bedeemer^s Eangdom by raising new 
churches in that locality in which it is organised. 

To the promotion of this object you stand pledged, generally, by 
tlie profession you sustain, and, epecially, by a resolution into which 
you entered at the commencement of your imion ; you then resolved 
that you would " endeavour to advance the cause of the Bedeemer 
throughout the county." Greatly does it require your exertions. 

At this delightful season of the year we are charmed with 
the rural beauty which many of our villages display; but 
let us think of the barrenness of the spiritual soil — of the 
thousands that are '^ perishing for lack of knowledge"! Can 
^ae, as an • association, do nothing to shed among them the light 
of truth? Can we not send out into some of these ''highways 
and hedges and compel them to come in"? Can we not employ 
a Home Missionary with the design of pknting a Christian society in 
one of these retreats of ignorance and gmlt ? Let it not be objected 
that we are feeble, and must confine our efforts to the spheres 
in which our respective churches are situated — ^that our pecuniary 
resources are slender, and we cannot sustain the cost of a vigorous 
effort. Our reply, in one word, is, We can. We have means adequate 
to conduct the proposed enterprisa There are within our circle those 
who '' have enough and to spare " and who ought, and who would, 
" of their abundance/' cast a portion into the treasury of Christian 
benevolence ; and there axe but few of our number who could not, to 
some extent, aid thia undertaking. To accumulate wealth, or even to 
live in circumstances of temporal comfort, is not the great end of a 

PracHcal Hints to the Members of our Churches. 1 8 1 

Christian's life ; a higher and a holier purpose occupies that place ; 
and it is far better to lay ouJt in the cause of the Bedeemer than to 
lay uf in our own. If we have to devote a portion of our time and 
our property to accomplish this object, these " are not our own, they 
are bought with a price/' Let some of the stieams of Providential 
favour which descend from God to us, hallowed by " the blood of 
spiinklmg/' flow back again, in direct channels, to their Source. Be 
it 80 that, in our endeavours, we have to make sacrificea and encounter 
difficulties, let us recollect that we owe all we have, and all we expect, 
to Him who, " though He was rich, yet for our sakes became poor, 
that we, through His poverty, might be rich.*' Let our faith contem- 
plate the Bedeemer's sacrificial death; let our hope anticipate the 
'' far more exceeding and eternal weight of gloiy ; " and then let our 
gratitude say in what terms we should respond to that love which 
descended to a Cross to raise us to a throne. Surely in accents 
like these : — 

** All that we are, and all we have. 
Shall be for ever Thine ; 
Whatever our duty bids «a give. 
Our cheerful hands resign." 

Every principle of our holy religion enjoins it upon us that, while 
pursuing our route to a blessed immortality, we should exert ourselves 
to rescue those who are " going down to the pit." 

Brethren, let us gird up our loins ; let us form our plans ; let us 
promptly choose and occupy our ground ; let us " not give sleep to 
our eyes, or slumber to our eyelids, until," in some morally desolate 
part of this county, we " find out a place for the Lord, an habitation 
for the mighty God of Jacob." *' Beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, 
luimoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch 
as ye know that your labour is not in vain in the Lord." 



HE death of this highly esteemed lady, by which the Bsptist chnicb 
in Taturton has lost one of its eldest siembexs and most deYoUd 
fiieadBy tock place.on Itidi^y Fehnwy Ilth. Mn. Horsey will be 
BBmembesed bv nuuw Baotist miniMAM- and also hv mauv noissioiL- 
aries in the loxeign fif^, ^ one who«ie generoiv hospitalily they 
have enjoyed, when occasionally visiting Taunton, during tlie last 
sixty yeans. She was bom February dth, I7d2. Her {iather, the Rev. Bichazd 
Horsey, of WeUington, Somerset, was the founder and first pastor of the Bi^ptuft 
ehuroh in Taunton. Her mothi^, Miss Anna Day, was « daughter of the tot 
nuniater of the Wellington Baptist Church. She w^s thus descended from a 
pious and godly paisntage, and enjoyed the inestimable blessing of a pious and 
godly home training ; the happy results of which were seen to her latest days in 
the excellence of her Christian character and in the devoutness of her life. Care- 
fully trained and educated in her lather's house at Wellington, she in early 
womanhood was married to Mr. l!1iomas HcHsey, who was at that time a chemist 
in Taunton, and was also a distant conneotioii of her lather's family. This change 
fixed her residence for life in the latter town. On December 26th, 1813, she and 
Ijier husband were baptized at Wellington by the then minister, the Rev. John 
Oheny, when they united with the ohui»h in that place. 

At this time there was no Baptist chuioh in Taunton, but there were sevend 
Baptists, members of the Wellington Church and others, residing in the town. 
In April, 1814, these friends, by tiie advice ^d under the leadership of Mr. 
Richard Horsey, resolved to hold a weekly prayer-meeting to ask the Divine help 
and blessing in their efforts to establish a Baptist church in Tauntcm. The fiiit 
of these meetings was held in the house of the subject of this notice ; and as these 
meetings issued, in the following November, in the ibrmation of the chnrch, it 
may justly be described as having originated in her houae. In the last-named 
month a large room was rented, and public worship began to be conducted by 
Mr. Richard Horsey, who came from, and returned to, Wellington every week 
for this purpose. During the following year a chapel was built at a cost of 
£1,237, and, on the day of opening, Mr. Richard Horsey was publicly ordained 
as pastor. In the accomplishment of this arduous work, Mrs. Thomas Horsey 
and her husband sustained a very energetic and devoted part Besides this, she 
was the foxmdress of the Simday-school connected with the place ; the first daaa 
of which it consisted being gathered by herself, and being taught in her own 
house. Through all her long life, her labours in the church and school, and in 
connection with the various benevolent institutions associated therewith, were 
generously and ungrudgingly given, until increasing infirmities compelled her 
gradually and reluctantly to retire from active service. 
Her remains were interred in the St. Mary's Cemetery, on February 18th 


the fixnenl flemoe, wldeh wm Ingely attended, being eondwsted by tbm Bev^ 
J. P. Tetley, in the ehapel die lored so well and in whidi she had so long 
wonhipped. In hie addiees ett the occadon Hr. Tetlej said : **Mi8. Thomaa 
Honey was emphatically one of *tlw exoellent of the earth.' Her Chxistian 
cLancter was of that pnmonneed and decided type whidiy whether sghtly or 
wrongly, we are in the habit of legnding as len common to-day than it was 
in the last geneiation. • . . Daring the wbole of her long life not only waa 
that life consistent with her pwfea s i on, it also manifested those bigher d^rees o^ 
excellence which are attained hf but the frnr. • . • By her devoted labovOi 
hj her liberal giring, by her wise and lender eympafiiy, by bar generoaa 
hospitality, and above all by tbe inspiration which emanated from her consistent and 
elerated life, she was 'a snecomer of many and of joe also.' • • • The poor 
bare lost a helper, and tbe lioh a Mend ; ' a mother in Israel ' has gone from our 
midst ; the Doreaa of our littfe eirele bas sidcened and died ; and alas ! there ia 
now no Peter wboee miraek-woiking words, ' Tabitha, arise,' can give her back 
to tbe loving ministries from whkb Ab has gone." 

Her fdneral sermon was prsaehed on Stmday evening, IF'ebraaiy SOIh, by the 
BeT. J. P. Tetley, from J«^ mL S4, to a crowded congregation. 



noN : I$aaCf Jacob, and JimpK Bj 
Karens Bods, D.D. IVice 3s. 6d. 
Edinbmgh ; Macniven and Wallaae. 
Thb chief excellence of this work is 
that of a deep and dear insight into 
the characters descabed — an exoellenee 
d no trivial order. The author has 
not contented himself with first im- 
pressions or conventional estimates. 
He has taken these histrariiw in band, 
not for the purpose of extracting from 
them a mass of minute details, which 
coold not fail to be dry and worthless^ 
hut rather with a view to draw from 
them faithful portraits of tibe moie 
pRxoinent persons who figure in tbem. 
Subordinate charactexa come in for their 
share of attentioni and theae^ like the 
leading ones, are skilfully manipulated. 
1^. Dods knows bumaa nature well, 
Aod he caCn detect and describe dis- 
tingniahing elemeaita a^dtraals witk an 

almost unerring exactness. These are 
set forth by bis pen insuch a way as to 
suggest and even to enforce their own 
moral lessons. The book is tbe pro- 
duction of a man of learning, of clear 
and comprehensive perception, of care- 
ful but vigorous thought, and of devout 
spirit. Its literary characteristics are 
as good as the most cultured mind 
could wish them to be. The following 
extract may be taken as a sample both 
of its style and method of teaching :— 

^'To this daj the metbad of Bebekab 
and Jacob la laigdy adopted by 
religious persons. It is notorious that 
persons whose ends are good become 
uioroughly unscrupulous about the 
means tbey use to accomplish them. 
They dare not say in so many worda 
that they may do evil that good may 
come, nor do tbey think it a tenable 
position in morals that the end* sancti- 
fies the means ; and yet their conscious- 
ness of a justifiable and desirable end 
undoubteoliy does bbuxt their aenaitive- 

1 84 


nesB reflaiding the Ifigitimaey of the 
means they employ. • • • , "^7. ^^ 
not feel the dishonesty of their position, 
because they have a ceneral conscious* 
ness that they are on ue side of reliffion, 
and of what has generally passed for 
truth. All keeping back of facts which 
are supposed to nave an unsettling 
effect^ 18 but a repetition of this sin. 
There is no sin more hateful. Under 
the app^unnoe of serving XSkid, «i»l 
maintamlag His cause in the world, it 
insults Him by assuming that if the 
whole bare, undisguised truth were 
spoken, His batlse would suffer." 

Such teaching as thifl was never more 
needed than now, when shams and 
insincerities seem intent on driving all 
honesty of principle, of speech, and of 
action out of the world. This book by 
Dr. Dods is interesting and instructlTe 
from b^inning to end* 

Thb Ooicnro Prznoi. By Bobert 
Anderson, LL.D., Banister-at-Law, 
&c. Hodder & Stoughton. n 

The Sio98 of thx Tdcxs, in bsla- 
tioh to thb bpxsdt bstubn 07 
oub lobd jlsub in fbb80n to 
BBiaN. By the Bev. A« B. Fausset, 
M.A. Edited by Thomas Greene, of 
Chichester. London ; Hatchards, 

We suppose that the times through 
which we are passing have certain 
peculiarities which are specially fitted 
to draw many minds to the study of 
unfulfilled prophecy. 1%e times un- 
questionably orv peculiar. Not to 
mention what are regarded as signs in 
the natural world of an approaching 
epoch of unusual importance, which 
may» of course^ be only too eanly mis* 
interpreted by a morbid imagination, 
it seems clear that the great— shall we 
wf the deeisiTel— eoniliet between 

truth and enor, between right and 
wrong, between Christ and Antiehiist, 
is fast coming on. Apparent indications 
of this are multiplying every day, and 
they arrest the attention of eveiy ob- 
server. They are so obvious that we 
need not occupy our space by pointing 
them out. Under such drcumstanoesy 
nothing can be more natural than for 
those believerB in the Bible as a Divine 
Bevelation who are specially inter- 
ested in such subjects, to turn wistfully 
to the prophetic pages of the Sacred 
Volume in the hope of finding there 
some trustworthy guide to their an- 
ticipations of the near future. We do 
not complain of tins, so long as in- 
quizies are conducted, and conclusions 
stated, with due modesty and caution. 
This necessary condition of all wise and 
safe prophetic study is not always ob- 
served. Therearenotafewinterpreten 
of prophecy amongst us who deserve to 
be stigmatised, in Andrew Fuller's 
phrase, as ^' the fortune-tellers of the 
Church." They have so completely 
explored the mysteries of Daniel and 
of John that they can tell to a nicety 
what to-morrow will bring fortL 
They know exactly where we are to- 
day in the development of the great 
prophetic drama, and they can claim to 
be believed by a confident appeal to 
chapter and verse. These writen are 
ministering to the sensationalism of the 
day in one of its worst and most dan- 
gerous forms. Happily, however, we 
have students of prophecy of another 
stamp— devout, humble-minded, but 
scholarly men who endeavour to look 
into the unknown in the light of the 
known, to interpret the prophedes 
which have yet to be fulfilled upon the 
principles deduced from their investi- 
gations of the prophecies which have 
been ftilfiUed already. But they do 


18 % 

not fbiget their liability to miBtake, and 
ao Xhej reason and write with becom- 
ing diffidence. The two books before 
us are of this higher order. We have 
read them with care, and, whether 
their conclosions are adopted or not, we 
are sore that they will abundantly 
reward penisaL Dr. Anderson's work 
id a beautifully printed and bound 
octavo volume of 245 pages, and is the 
production of a devout and accom* 
plkhed scholar. Mr. Fausset — whose 
reputation as a Biblical critic and com- 
mentator is established — ^has discussed 
his subject in an octavo punphlet of 
seventy-four pages, into which he has 
condensed fourteen chapters, containing 
the results to which he has been led by 
a minute and careful study of the 
mious subjects which gather around 
bis central theme. It ought to be 
stated that both these writers are Pre- 
millennialists. Dr. Anderson, how- 
ever, dwells more especially upon the 
devebpment, reign, and overthrow of 
the terrible Prince who is to be the 
peisonal embodiment of Antichrist. 

Laws sslatino to Bblioious Libsbtt 
AND Public Wobship. By John 
Jenkins, Esq., B^;istrar of County 
Courts, and Delegated Judge in 
Bankruptcy. Price 58. Hodder and 

Ma. Jenkins has brought together, 
and has presented in a thoroughly 
readable and understandable form, a 
mass of information, of which all who 
take any interest in the history and 
the progress of religion in this country 
should hasten, to possess themselves. 
The book does not deal with questions 
of Geology, or of worship in the 
abfitiact, but with those questionB as 

they have been affected by the action 
of the legislature ; and as such it is an 
admirable and useful book of reference, 
displaying extensive research, and sup- 
plying all needful guidance as to the 
conditions on which all kinds of 
religious property may be held, and 
the obligations which they impose. 

Notes on a Tour in Brittant. By 
S. Prideaux Tregelles, LL.D. Edin- 
burgh : Johnstone, Hunter, and Co. 
London : Hamilton, Adams, and Co. 

Thbbe " Notes " are written in a pleas- 
ant style, and will help those readers 
who have not visited the region which 
is described, to form some definite idea 
of its natural features, its towns and 
villages, and the maimers of the people. 
It will also serve as a guide to those 
who may intend to follow the example 
of the auliior, in making Brittany the 
scene of a holiday excursion. They are 
not, however, to be regarded merely as 
a book of traveL Dr. Tregelles went 
through the country in the spirit of a 
Christian; and in that spirit these 
''Notes" have been written. As he 
says, ''to not a few who will read" 
them, "it is an important inquiry, not 
merely what may be done for relaxation 
and health on a summer tour, but 
also what opportunities it affords for 
Christian usefulness;" and to that 
inquiry the book will afford an answer. 
It is well written, and well got up, and 
has some good woodcut illustrations. 

Boston Monday Leoturbs for 1881. 
Part I., price Is. London : Dicken- 

It was well that^ when Joseph Cook 

1 86 


left Boston for a temporary sojonm in 
Europe, the noble work he had been 
doing in that city was transferred fos 
tiie time being to other hands — ^hands, 
moreover, so competent to carry it on, 
though in a rery different style. Mr. 
Dickenson has here republished six of 
these lectures, all of which are worthy 
of an attentive perusal. We had read 
some of them before, as published in an 
American paper, and we are glad to see 
them reproduced in England. We had 
in type for our present number the 
PXelude to Dr. McCosh's Lecture on 
Evolution and Development^ before this 
publication came to hand ; and we trust 
that this taste of the first series pre* 
sented by Mr. Dickenson may create in 
the minds of our readers a desire for 
the whole. 

The Tbuth 07 Scsiftube in cjonnbc- 

TION, AND THE Canon. By John 
James Given, Ph.D., Professor of 
Hebrew and Hermeneutics in Magee 
College, Londonderry. Edinbui]g^: 
T. & T. Clark. 

Db. Given has furnished in this work 
a defence of the orthodox view of the 
three momentous subjects whi<^ he 
has discussed, more complete and prc^ 
bably more effective than any other 
which we are acquainted with. The 
work is elaborate and voluminous ; but 
the subjects on which it treats are great, 
and have called forth a great variety of 
opinions, which any thorough and 
exhaustive treatment must of necessity 
pass in review. Our author has brought 
much learning to his task^ and has 
addressed himself to it with great intel- 
lectual and spiritual energy. We are 
not sure that he will carry with him 
even all readers who devoutly reoognise 

the Divine authority of Bible teachings 
in Mb vindication of the doctrine of 
Plenary inspiration. That doctrine is 
not without its difficulties ; but it seems 
to us that Dr. Given has found for it a 
basis as sound and sure as the facts of 
the case will admit of, and has made 
many of the objections to it appear 
petty and frivolous. No believer in 
the Bible can rightly be charged with 
irrationalism, with such arguments for 
his defence as those which this most 
able work places at his command. 

The Inspibatzon and Cibcui.atioh 
or THE Bible. By the Bev. William 
Fergusson, M.A. With a Prefatoiy 
Note, by the Bev. George Smeaton, 
D.D., Professor of Ezegetical The- 
ology, New College, Edinburgh. 
London : Elliot Stock. 

A NEW and formidable indictment 
against the British and Foreign Bible 
Society for circulating Romish, and 
therefore notoriously corrupted, ver- 
sions of the Word of God. It otight to 
be widely read. When will the Bible 
Society come to its right mind on tlus 
important matter 1 

The Atonement. A Paper read at a 
Meeting of Preachers in Leeds. En- 
larged. By James Fyfe. London : 
Simpkin, Marshall & Co. Price 

Mb. Five states that ^the substance 
of*' this ''paper was read in the desk 
at Horton College, Bradford, nearly 
forty years ago, and" that'' the then 
president, tbe now venerable Dr. 
Acwoiih, said he believed they were 
the only views that would stand the 


tut" Wbttt bttter neoaunendiitioB 
coaU Mr. Fyfe plead 1 The fesfu 
diom nmoh earcf dL rawoarrhi wlikh bu 

led the respected author to the follpw- 
ing condtision : — ^ An atonement niay 
be Mt\j defined to be, not the bearing 
of penal^, but something divinely ap- 
pointed and accepted to prevent its 
infliction, and justify God in pardoning 

Ths Lifi of Davw. By the late Bev. 
Peter Thompson, M.A., St Feigqs, 
£dinbaigh : Macniven & Wallace. 

Tho little work is the first of a series 
under the general title of ** Bible Class 
Primeo.' Twenty-one subjects are 
aiuunmoed, all of them of great interest 
If tiie project be completed in the 
&Qpaior style in which it has com- 
menced, it ought to command a wide 
popolarity, and to be attended by great 
QSttfulnesB. That it will be so we have 
a guarantee in the just celebrity of most 
d the aathors who have been en^iged. 
The story of David's singular life is told 
hy the young and lamented writer in a 
^le w«ll suited to its inherenjt 
attractiveness, and well fitted to fix it 
in the memory. 

•ame firam one of oar own number. 
The fiaols which Presboteios deplores 
are patent eoiNigh, and it is only right 
that our attentioQ should be drawn to 
them. Our difficulty is as to the 
remedy. David did not greatly better 
his condition or his prospects when, to 
escape from Saul, he betook himself to 
the Philistine country for refuge. It is 
hardly worth while to escape from ona 
set of evils by plunging into another of 
a different^ but not less objectionable 
kind- We have no particular enthu- 
siasm for a system. Independency 
would work well enough if the 
Christian people who are identified 
with it would let their common sense 
rule them; whilst the cantankerous 
and the self-assertive are awkward folk 
to deal with wherever they may be. 
Nevertheless, the pamphlet before us is 
well worth an attentive consideration. 

Lsciuass ON BioLOOT, Taansgbndxh- 
TAUSif, Okthodoxt, ConsgiencX, 
HsREDiTT, Mabbxaqjb. By Joseph 
Cook. With Preludes on Current 
Events and Analytical Indices. 
London : B. D. Dickenson, Farring;- 
don Sizeet 1881. 


Luids. A friendly letter to - the 
Membera of the Congregational and 
Baptist Denominations. By Presbu- 
teroa. London : Yates & Alezandier, 
21, Castle Street, Holbom. Price 

Thk author of this trenchant pamphlet 
had boldly exposed the sadder workings 
of the ^xrit of Independency in our 
CtmgregatioBal Churches). We do not 
compkin that the accusation should 

Mb. DiOK^BNBOtf was the first to intro- 
duce Mr. Cook's Lectures to the notice 
of English readers, and has done more 
than any other publisher to popularise 
them on this side the Atlantic He 
has issued many editions so as to meet 
the requirements of all classes. £Qs 
latest venture is the issue of the six 
volumes of the Student's edition, either 
separately at the amazingly low price of 
one shilling each, or bound in two 
volumes at three shillings each. Con- 
sidering the clearness of the type and 



the folness of the analytical indices— - 
tuAfc^ Wi Uher tdUion poBaeases — ^this is 
mcompaiablj the cheapest fonn in 
which these famous lectures have yet 
appeared, and it will ensure for them a 
new lease of popularity. 

A Sermon preached on Sunday evening^ 
February 6th, 1881, in the Burlington 
Chapel, London Boad, Ipswich, by 
the Rev. T. M. Monis, on the occa- 
sion of the decease of the "Rev, 
James Webb. Price Sixpence. Elliot 

An excellent sermon, in every respect 
befitting the occasion. 

The Child's Life of Chbist, with 
Original Illustrations. Parts 4 and 
5. Sevenpence each. Gassell, Petter, 
Galpin, & Co. 

The two parts before us bring the 
narrative to the ministry of John the 
Baptist. « The old, old story "— eo old, 
and yet evermore so new — ^is told, thus 
far, with a simplicity, a beauty, and a 
completeness, which leaves nothing to 
be desired ; and children will delight 
to read it It comprises not only the 
historical facts, but also explanations 
by which those facts may be the more 
readily understood. The illustrations 
are at once numerous, appropriate, and 

The Chribtian Monthly and Family 
Tbeastjby. Parts 1 — 3. Sevenpence 
each. Kelson & Sons. 

This serial is tastefully printed on 
excellent paper, and contains a great 

variety of articles which are high ia 
tone and attractive in style. A goodly 
number of celebxated writers appear in 
its pages.* 

The Chkthttan Tbeasubt and 
Family Miscellany. January and 
February, 1881. Price Sixpence. 
Edinburgh : Johnstone, Hunter, & 
Co.; London: Groombridge & Soiu, 
5, Paternoster Bow. 

Another serial similar to the one jiut 
noticed, and worthy of similar ptaise. 

Christ's Joy fulfilled in His Dis- 
ciples. A Sermon preached in St 
Andrew's Presbyterian Church, Tor- 
quay, Januaiy 7th, 1881, preparatoij 
to the United Communion Service 
at the close of the Annual Week of 
United Prayer. By Evan Edwaids, 
Pastor of Upton Vale Baptist Church 
Price Fouipence. Elliot Stock. 

Thebb is a mellow, spiritual beauty in 
this sermon, well suited to the theme, 
and to the circumstances. It doees 
with a graceful but diBcriminatmg 
tribute to the late Canon Bobinson. 

The New Testament Coiocentabt 
FOB English Readebs. Edited bj 
C. J. Ellicott, D.D., Lord Bishop of 
Gloucester and BristoL Part L 
Price Sevenpence. Casaell, Petter, 
Gkilpin, & Co. 

This admirable Commentary bids isir 
to supply a pressing need. We hare 
many Commentaries addressed to the 
learned, and not a few to the unleamei 
The time baa come when many of those 
who do not read Greek are able in good 



meuine to appreciate the scliolarlf 
kboon of those who are most aoeom- 
pliahed in that language ; and such as 
tliese will consnlt the fint-claM work 
to which we here call attention, with 
interest and profit Bishop Ellicotf a 
competency as editor needs no testi- 
mony f^omna. 

Wabd and Look's Usithb8aii Ih- 
sxRUGTOB. Complete in 36 Monthly 
Buta. Parts 3^ 4, &. Price Sixpence 
eacL London : Ward & Lock. 

This publication is a veritable encyclo- 
pedia, dammed with information, pre- 
sated in a form which can be readily 
tpprehended. One of the most nsefol 
publications of the day, and marvel- 
lously cheap. 

Thi Bbxthbxh : their Worship and 
the Word of God at Open Variance. 
By Bobert H. Caraoni of Tubber- 
more. London : Elliot Stock. Dnblin : 
Canon Brothers, Qxafton Street. 
Belfast : S. R Gant, High Street 

Thq octavo pamphlet of sixty compact 
pages is an nnaparing exposnxe of the 
tnacriptnxal character of the worship 
which is peculiar to the people who 
itjlethemselvea '« The Brethren." We 
Wlieve that sncli an exposure waa 
eslisd for, and that the call haa been 
effeetirely met. We ahonld naturally 
opeet tbat when a writer of the name 
of Obisou seta himaelf to refute an 
cmmeoaa doctrine or an unacriptoral 
pnctiee ha will not execute his task 
in my half-and-half way. No maudlin 
charity will weaken his reasoning. He 
vill not speak ^ with bated breath and 
whispend humbleness." There is no 
iboie in thia pamphlet^ but there is a 

great deal of outopokenness. The aim 
of the writer is thus stated : " Profess- 
ing, as they (the Brethren) do, a special 
attachment to the Word and regard for 
its precepts, our friends in their service 
have yet renounced the mle of Scrip- 
Inre, and in its steod accepted their 
own inspirationa. Not what an apostle 
eommanda, or a church of the New 
Teatament observes, but what 'it has 
been given ' the assembled worshippers 
to do^ that they da Thus, outside and 
beyond itself, a * gathering' has abso- 
lutely no guide. To bring this clearly 
out, and to put it beyond denial, is the 
one aim of the following pages." In 
our judgment, the author has amply 
aubatantiated his chaige. 

Baptist Prinoiflbs and History. 
The Substance of Two Sermons, 
preached in Geoige Street Chapel, 
Plymouth, on Sunday Evenings, May 
11th and 18th, and before the Western 
Association of Baptist Churches at 
Bridport, June 11th, 1879. With 
Notes and an Appendix. By John W. 
Ashworth. London : Tates & Alex- 
ander, 21, Castle Street, Holbom. 
Plymouth : W. Brendon & Son, . 
Gteorge Street. 

A LONG title to a short work. The 
length of the title, however, is not the 
fault of the author, and the shortness 
of the work is not to be regarded as 
suggesting that there is but little in it 
MuUum in parvo would certainly not 
be exaggerated praise. Mr. Ashworth's 
object is to show that, though ''dis- 
paraging remarka are often made with 
regard to Baptists," and though there 
are still "some of our brethren who 
have to^suffer for their adherence to our 
views^and observances^" yet we are not 

1 88 


« inferior to other churches "— fiistly, in 
OUT origin and history ; secondly, in the 
name we bear ; thirdly, ^th r^ard to 
the posseaslon «f the Scriptmes; 
fourthly, in respect to the right of 
private judgment ; fifthly, in our Tiewfc 
of Divine Truth; sixthly, in our 
authority to preach the Oospd; 
seventhly, in oar ecclesiaBtical oonstitu*- 
Hon and observtmces ; eighthly, in the 
godly care and training of the yoUng ; 
nintky, in our eff<Jrt8 to extend the 
Redeemer's Kingdom. Whether it was 
•worth wiiile to issue a defence and a 
eulogy of our denominatioil of this 
Mnd, in the absence of some- formal 
attack upon it, we will not decide. 
We are happy to say, however, tiiat Mr. 
Ashworth has proved himself to be an 
advocate in whose hands the reputation 
of our body will not suffer. He has 
put our clidm to public respect with 
comprehensiveness and vigour. 

Tm Tons aud TsACHnro o» the 
New TssTAJOBm on Cbrtaikty in 
BsLiaxoK. Being the Merchants' 
Lecture for October, 1880. By 
Edward White. Elliot Stock. 

Mr. White has long been known as a 
fearless thinker and as a writer of un- 
usual power. We have not been able to 
.accept his pecidiar theory of life and 
Immortality, which seems to us to havte 
no foundation either in philosophy or 
iu Scripture ; but the productions of his 
pen have no more eager and, apart from 
the specilJity just named, more sym- 
pathetic and admiring rteders than our- 
aelve& The little work before us is by 
no means a little one whelk the ihase of 
Wise, deep thinking it embodies' is oon- 
«ideted. Carefully read, it will be 
found to pohKt out the way horn doubt 

to ftflth— fifSt, iot tegaid to Hie truth of 
Chrisftiaiiity, md, secoadfy, in legiid 
to tiie question of pergonal salvatkm. 

^HB New CYCLOPiBDiA OF Illubtea- 
HVB Anecdote. Designed for 
Ministers, Teachers, and the Family 
Circle. Elliot Stock. 

JtoaiHG from the first ]t«it «f to 
Cycloptedia, ministers i^ho tefy fond of 
anecdotal illustiation di the pdpit 
will find it to be a miiie df wealth, from 
which they can draw treasures every 
way to their taste and purpose. It will 
be equally useful to Sundsy-Bchool 
teachers. The anecdotes are classified 
under convenient headings, and the 
work is to be completed in eighteen 
parts at threepence each. 

Tbb BtBLio^ Mxrssva. By Jtmes 
ComperGray. Vol. IX. Contaming 
the Books of Jeremiah, LamentatknUf 
andEseki<d. Elliot Stoek. 

This most useful work is making steady 
progress, and we a«e ^eA to observe 
Itot the laborious industiy of the 
author shows no indication that it ia od 
the deoline. As our readers know, it 
contains ''» collection ^ notes, ex- 
planatory, homiletic, and illurtrativ^ oa 
the Holy Scriptures," and is « de^ei 
fbt the use of minislfers, Bible4ftudeDtoi 
and Sunday^chool tsoeheisf' The 
peculiarity c^ the work oonaistB in the 
tnoafc and variety 61 iiiforana^n broog^t 
fogethtft, the cempastriess- of -the fmo 
in which it is anaucpM; ^tik^ itadineas 
With wfaicfar any part of it caii he picked 

out foft spedfic Use, the' extent fie which 
it oompiisee the lestdts 6i the beat 
modem* Biblical erifeHisi% sod the 



munerouB references to jiuscelLuieoiia 
literature of whick the student maj 
profitably avail himself, Mr. Qraj has 
for msiif years- been an indeflEitigable 
lielper of missionaries and Snnday- 
flcliool teachers* He is now engaged on 
hifl greatest worky^and is doing it welL 

The IncASHAnoH or Qop, aitd ovhbb 
Sebxohb. By the Rev. Henry 
Batdielor. Hodder k Stooghton. 

Vs his preface, Mr. Batchelor says : ** I 
have long promised a yolnme of 
sermons." We are heartily glad that 
be has at last fulfilled his promise. He 
ays, farther : ** WeU I know that prird 
cinnot prtaeh ; but the page can recall 
for one who has heard discourses the 
impression of the pulpit" It is true 
that the reader of a sermon lacks some 
chances of impression which are pos- 
sessed by the hearer, on the supposition 
that the preacher does not hinder the 
impression by imperfections in his 
utterance and infelicities in his manner. 
We hare not had the pleasure of listen- 
ing to Mr. Batchelor, but we have often 
heard of him, and always as an eloquent 
and telling preacher of the Gospel, 
eonnd in the faith, bold in thought, 
reverent in spirit, fearless in speech, 
well able to handle his subjects in a 
freah and unconrentional way, bringing 
to bear upon them iUostratively copiotiB) 
varied, trustworthy and interesting 
information. The sermons collected in 
this vohnne display all these charae** 
teristiis in a very high degree. We 
lead them with an interest which never 
flags, and some of them we have read 
with increased delight several times. 
Among these we may mention, '' The 
Three Crosses ; or, the Revelation of 
Christ as a Saviour ; " '* Beginnings and 

Ends; or, Darkness and Lights and 
Light and Darkness ; " << The Death of 
Moses ; or. Lights and Shadows at Even* 
tide ;" "The Face of God ; or, Man in 
Heavenly Eellowship with his Maker ; ' 
and "Ecce Homo ; or, Perfect Human* 
ity.'' We mention these, not to suggest 
any comparison with the others as im- 
plying their superiority, but because of 
some special interest which they have 
excited in our minds, owing, it may be, 
to the mood in which we happened to 
be when the volume first came to hand. 
We thank Mr. Batchelor for supplying 
us with a book so full of j&esh, devout, 
dear, and weU-expressed Christian 
thought, to which we shall often turn 
with the expectation of deriving from 
it quickening and healthful influence. 

Lilian Mortdcer : a Story of Ritu- 
alism in the Present Day. By 
Frances M. SavilL London: John 
Snow & Co., 2, Ivy Lane, Paternoster 

A THRiLLiNa narrative, with the stamp 
of truth and reality on every line. 
The Mortimers — ^father, mother, and 
two daughters (Maggie and Lilian) — 
are a ^Nonconformist family of means 
and education, who suffer from the 
social disabilities inflicted upon such 
persons by the false respectability which 
belongs to the adherents of the so-called 
National ChuAdu Lilian is tempera- 
mentally the gayer and more impres- 
sible of the two girls^ with a nature 
which may grow into true womanly 
beauty, but which may also be spoiled 
if unfortunate enough to be exposed to 
sinister influences. She contracts a 
friendship with Grace Grantley , daughter 
of the old clergyman of the parish — a 
good Evangelical ; and this is *' the thin 



end of the wedge." In time she be- 
comes engaged to Grace's brother, who 
is a noble jonng man studying for the 
bar in London. Meanwhile, when on 
a visit to her annt, she had entered the 
Chnrch of England by the rite of con- 
firmation without previous consultation 
with any member of her family — an act 
which was naturally productive of 
much domestic sorrow. Grace was 
drifting into High Church notions, and 
Lilian followed her. The old clergy- 
man dies after a short illness, and an 
advanced Ritualist succeeds him. Mr. 
Mortimer suspected that an attempt 
would be made to lure his daughter 
into the Confessional, and exacted from 
her a promise that if the Rev. Mr. V ere 
made any suggestion to her of that 
kind she would at once inform her 
parents of it. That promise she deli- 

berately violated. The discovery oi 
her treachery proved the death of her 
mother, who had been suffering from 
heart-disease occasioned by the tioable 
which her daughter's ab^rations had 
created. She had sacrificed a faithfur 
lover, and had put herself into the 
hands of a designing priest. On the 
day of her mother's death she fran- 
tically fled from her home, and was not 
heard of for some time, when it was 
found that she had joined an Anglican 
sisterhood at Brighton, where remorse, 
combined with the austerities of th& 
establishment, soon ended her life— 
not^ however, without a foil reconcilia- 
tion with her father and sister, and a 
sense of Divine forgiveness. The story 
is well told, and the more widely it ia 
lead the better. 

It is with inexpressible regret that we have heard of the death of Lady 
Lush, who has for so many years devoted herself with rare ability and 
zeal to a great variety of works of Christian usefulness, and notably so in 
connection with our own Denomination. She was greatly beloved by a 
very wide circle of friends and coadjutors, and will for a long time be 
painfully missed. Public sympathy for Lord Justice Lush and hia 
bereaved fiunily will be very deep and tender, and many a prayer will riae 
to heaven for the bestowment upon them of the comfort they sorely need. 



MAT, 1881. 

Ifabji ^us^. — JiT "^tmm'iXm. 

AST month we had to announce with inexpressible regret 
the death of Lady Lush, which took place on the 16th of 
March, after a long and trying illness borne with exemplary 
patience and resignation. Her ladyship was the daughter 
of the Eev. Christopher Woollacott, and was born at 
Modbury, Devonshire, on the 4th of December, 1818. The family 
removed to London on Mr. Woollacott's receiving a call to the 
pastorate of the church assembling in Komsey Street, Westminster, 
in 1823 ; so that the greater part of her life was spent in the 
metropolis, and amidst its influences her character was moulded, and 
perhaps owed something of its breadth to the associations by which 
she was thus surrounded from lier early years. Stories are told of 
her early days, which gave promise of her future development, but 
which our space does not permit us to insert. Early in life she was 
led to give her heart to the Saviour as the result of her father's 
ministry, and became connected with the church of which he was 
pastor. Here her active religious life may be said to have commenced, 
for she continued here until her father's removal to Little Wyld Street, 
Lincoln's Inn Fields, and remained a member there until his retire- 
ment from the pastorate. Before this, however, she had become 
intimately connected with the church in Begent's Park, and w^as, in 
fact, one of the most earnest, devoted workers there. The chapel in 


194 Lady Lush, — In Memariam. 

Little Wyld Street being too far off to admit of their attending 
service twice on the Sunday, after they went to reside in Avenue 
Boad, Mr. and Mrs. Lush took a pew in Begent's Park as soon as it 
was opened, and have occupied it from that time until now, dividing 
their attendance between the two places until Mr. Woollacott's retire- 
m«^t, ^he|i Uieiiy m^nd^eBhiji was traisf^ited fk*<|m littfe "Wjrld 
Street, and Eegent^s Park became their only religious home. 

When the writer knew them first, Mr. Lush was a rising barrister, 
but as yet he and his wife were comparatively little known, either 
within or beyond the denominatioQ. Even then, however, they had 
commenced to exercise that kindness and charity for which they 
afterwards became so distinguished. The writer will not soon forget 
the kindly greeting which he received from them when he came as a 
stranger to a strange place^ with a work before him which was not a 
little fitted to try his faith and courage; and that kindly greeting was 
^hc prelude to a friendship whieh has never been interrupted, and the 
manifold tokens of which he can never forget while memoi^ hdds 
her seat. Under their hospitable roof he made the acquainiaiiM of 
ministers whom they had met with on their sea-side visits, awfcwko, 
as a matter of course, were imdted to paitake of their hosptodity 
on their visits to London. He remembers, too, how the old and 
infirm members of Little Wyld Street Church used to pay them an 
annual visit, and what delight the hosts took in ministering to tibte 
comfbrt of their guests. These latter hospitalities were afterwards 
extended, until several hundreds annually partook of them ; and one 
of the most- pleasant gatherings to be witnessed in or around' London 
was the meeting of poor mothers and their husbamfti who came to 
Avenue Hoad to enjoy the midsummer feast so kindly provided for 

It' was among these poor motliers and fathers that Lady Lush found 
the work in which she most delighted; and every one who saw* her 
can bear testimony to the hearty and devoted manner in yAxaSti liiat 
work was done. Possessed of large sympathies and a tndy Gittidlic 
spmt; her eflbrts were not confined to one channeL To alteost^ every 
needy «nd deserving object' siie was readjrto lend a hri^^ing hand. 
Hter helfj, in fact, when sw* objects presented Hicmsdlnes, w«? Minited 
orijF'by her ahilitj^ and' that* was often strained* by her determined 
wifl< and^ aotiti^ baUetft^ to an extent which threatened^to pvtyve, and 
^d' pfove at times, iiqtnieus to her healtl}. Fdr orphuiages and 

muBonft, f or chwrifahlfr irodssi afc. homff and Bliioftd,.ahe tojied inda^ 
fatigablj. Jqged PilgDxns and XiDcnraUesfaiuid in: lom a aj^pathiwig 
iftd ezosgBliBifiiBnd. Ho! hands* ivere ima&yfalLaf cmism €aii»iiQm 
behalf she had to canvass for votes far and wide ; and nob a bm of 
tlK)se who iifefe not d]gS)Ie fiot. public, hdp becamfi regular penskaoers 
on her privats: chaiifejit; But while all. tfaflse and maajr otiier oljgeeUs 
leodTed her genenms halp, it» waa. at tba; Mission. ]^I1, amoog her 
bdoved mofcUeEi espadally, that ha chief wodi was^dcme. niat.wDik 
mui(ximpflmtivdjaiiiaUin.ilab«ginmxig. An empty lODm in tbeneigbi- 
bonihood' soffieed for the. anraammndation; of tiuose who attended. aA 
fint Buttery soon — as it coiold not fidlto da in tdie hands of one 
^ribo. broij^t' to it so many qnalifixuitiGass^ and watered into it so 
beaitily — it began, to asarane: large proportienfl^ Hen kind heastf and 
petsBBflnnemanner dreirtogelihoriiximbeis wdiick the little room^ooidd 
not contain, and the meetings; aCtar aiseoond and laq^r room: had 
beeom&toe small for Idiem, wieore held in one of tha roBms atkacted to 
tlie ch^el. Tbero they continmd mitil Mr. Lush waa raieed to tha 
bemdv when a possDnai present she reoervod to spend, as she. tiioQ^ 
ponper; instead of being used for paraanalpnipoeei^. was devoted to 
tfae ereotum of the Mission Hall in Brummond Stie^ which; ham 
tbe dwjT rfits;op£nin& becanm the sphere of her self-denying: labons?; 
and ft source of nntold blessing to the nrnghhrnrrhnorii around. '^ Tim 
xbbI^" s^tb Di^ Landela, " tha lorving patience, t^ generwliy; witii 
iridch ahe engaged in dia wwktizere, were beyond alLpraiaa How 
ahe loved those mothem, and. caoed for tiiem, and prayed and tailed 
for them, and saorificed hecself for their good t Haw shesympn^hised 
with them in their troublea, and made alloiwance fba their failusea or 
their fieiidts, in oonsideration of the hasd: and trying* droamstaneBB in 
which many of them wem placed! How slow she was ta thask 
faaidlj of them ! How unwilling to give tiiem up even after they 
had lepeaitedly disappdnted Isas hopes T How ready she was ta put 
the best constmctiffii on.all they did ! All iins only tfaoaetwiui have 
habitually wifcuessedihec proGeduie can. rightly estimate. Most of us, 
howaw, know something of the intesiest alie took in< them — how 
she spend ne^er strength nor wealth iu her effinka — how hsffpy 
shewaarto'seethemaasembla in. crowds, atthaanmnd tea-meeting to 
wUeh At inmted them, han^ and still mom ail^ the Munai summer 
pUwimgin thfitgn>iuni3.a(dgainiiig her imdeiiBe*— utet joy diie took 
in Oeia' jey, and in whal^ sweetly pemuasive meBDGDr she addressed 


196 Lady Lush, — In M&mortam, 

them. A friend troubled with sceptical doubts told me how they 
were rebuked and dissipated when he witnessed the practical 
embodiment of the Christian spirit which he found in one of those 

The following instance, among many, may be mentioned as 
illustrating the spirit in which her work was done. The husband of 
one of her mothers attended the class which she held for fathers. 
Physically, he was a fine specimen of a man, but morally weak and 
wayward. He had served in the army during the Crimean war, and 
his soldier life had fostered habits which were not conducive to his 
own dignity, or the comfort of his family. His intemperanoe 
kept them in great poverty and distress. She resolved to do what 
she could to induce him to give up the use of intoxicating drinks. 
In answer to one of her appeals he told her that, if she objected to his 
taking beer, she should not forget that she had wine instead. " Will 
you give up beer if I give up wine ? " she immediately asked. And, 
as he proinised that he would, the contract between them was 
immediately formed. The wine which she had been accustomed to 
take with benefit to herself, as she believed, wais abandoned, in order 
that, in this way, she might induce the erring one to relinquish the 
habit which was proving his ruin. The compact thus formed she 
faithfully kept, notwithstanding that her health appeared to suffer in 
consequence, until, seeing that she looked pale and feeble, the great, 
strong, rough man, with a chivalrous delicacy which one would not 
have expected from his habits and manners, came up to her residence 
and said he had bad news to tell her. "What are the bad 
news?" she asked. "Why, this, that one of us must break the 
pledge. Your health is suffering from your abstinence, as anyone 
can see ; and, if you don't give it up, I will, so that you shall not be 
bound to it for my sake." Whether he was right or not, as to her 
abstinence being the cause of her health suffering, the incident is not 
less illustrative of her readiness to exercise self-denial, if thereby she 
might raise the fallen and save the lost. In this case, happily, the 
sacrifice was not thrown away, as, indeed, such sacrifices seldom are. 
The sisterly sympathy and readiness to help which he found in one 
so refined, and so far above him in station, told on his rough, strong 
nature ; and, in so far as sobriety, at least, was concerned, he became 
a new man. This same spirit of self-sacrifice was constantly exercised 
in all her dealings with the poor. She was not content with giving 

Lady Lush. — In Mtmortam. 197 

to them that which cost her nothing, or even that which cost lier 
little. In loving services among them she may be almost said to 
have poured out her life. Very touching was it to see how, on the 
last occasion of her meeting with them, she struggled against the 
disease which was prostrating her, and had, in fact, brought her very 
near to the gates of death, in order that she might give to each one of 
them, as they left the place, her friendly greeting. It was at the annual 
distribution of Christmas dinners, which took place in the schoolroom 
under the chapel. It has been the custom for years past at Segent's 
Park to provide a Christmas dinner for some two or three thousand 
persons, and some five or six hundred come to the schoolroom on the day 
before Christmas in order to receive them. In the provision of these 
dinners she took an active part, and was always present at their 
distribution. She was not content with seeing the poor thus supplied! 
with material comforts, nor with meeting them in a body, but placed 
herself by the door as they left, in order that she might wish them 
individually a happy Christmas time. On this last occasion she was 
there as usual, although any one could see how unfit she was to be 
out of her own chamber, and there she remained giving to each one 
her pleasant greeting, until an attack of sickness compelled her to 
retire, and she had to be almost borne to her carriage and driven 
home. When urged not to try herself as she was doing, her reply 
was, " What if it should be the last opportunity I have of speaking to 
tiiem ! " 

Well might Dr. Landels say in his funeral sermon — " The salutary 
effect of such loving, self-denying labours could not fail to be great — 
greater, perhaps, than will ever be known here. For many have 
passed away without any public testimony whose death-beds have 
shown that the Gospel truths, which through hymns and addresses 
they had imbibed at the mission hall, were precious to them in their 
dying hour, and inspired them with a good hope of coming glory. 
Then the improved temporal appearance of many showed what a 
good work in that respect was being done among them. And, among 
the spiritual results, we have mothers not a few, and fathers also, 
members of this church, who trace their conversion to her instru- 
mentality. The hold she Indd on their affections is manifest in the 
numbers who are here to-day, mourning as for the loss of their 
dearest and best friend, and from the reverence, almost akin to 
worship, with which they regarded her when living, and are prepared 

%§6 Jjatfy .LusJk^^/n Jitemonam. 

to cfaerish >hBr waaaifrnxm tbat she is gonBe. !To .few .bas it keca 
givBn to be 30 ninchJboivedLaDd isrered, JbecametD fewluMi lioen gires 
so mach of iiie power mf Jorzng jaad of gbring jeoqiieaBBm to tbsir 

from' tli6 saxBA sermon welaire thefoUamingjaocQDiit of wbat sfe 
was 9t8 a member of ihe cfa]tIcII^--"^l the dntues pertainsiig to ber 
duxDch lelations sbe pezfiaoned in tbe most consdeafeious and niost 
eoxdial maniier. Sea^'effints and influeneeiime aever wantixifg when 
any ^od work had to be tione. In the ordinary aervices of -tibe 
BMictMftry ^e was as punctual and j^guhor in her attendance as if 
ftey depended on her alone. Whoever else might be absent ixsm 
Afiiir post, she was always to befcmnd at hers. If her place was net 
fiUad at any time, ewry^one knew that it was either iUness or absence 
from town which was thecaiise. On week-night and Lord's-day it 
was the same. "No attraction in other quarters was allowed to dmw 
her away from the assemblies of those with whom she was united in 
church fellowship, and -who had a right, therefore, to reckon on her 
presenoe. No inyitation to party, or concert, or entertainioBnt of any 
kind, was accepted ; no engagement formed which prevented her 
attendance at the weekly meeting. No one surpassed her in coortesr 
Id her friends, but no call or visit of Mend was ever allowed to keep 
her away from the house of God. She could have enjoyed occasional 
changes, and social gatherings, and visits to places of recveation, and 
special services elsewhere, as much as anyone. But the churdi 
axrangements to which she had consented, as a member of tlie 
chmirh, were deemed as binding as a solemn contract; and no 
external inducement could lead her to violate her plighted troth 
Rightly or wrongly, wisely or unwisely, so she felt imd so she acted ; 
aM(l, as the reward of her conscientiousness, she profited above many. 
And, while thus attentive to ordinary engagements, her readiness to 
holp on any special occasion was equally conspicuous. Many of yon 
know how, at great cost to herself, and when the state of her bodily 
heaith would have dictated another course, she would appear in 
ga&eiings to which she had no special call, simply that by her 
piesence she -might give pleasure and encouragement to others. 

** 0f every good woiic which the church attempted, she was a 
ready and generous helper. Many a good nurmment she originated, 
and those wliich began with oteis were generally moie or less 
inflcAitad'to her for being oairBsd sueeessfidly through. Sudi a move- 

Lady Lush.-'^In Memortam. rg^ 

meat would scarcely have been thotight complete by its Mends unless 
she had a share in it. The woricars in the ohiu»h sought her counsel 
and co-opetation when difficulties had to be overcome, or great ends 
acliieved, and the poor in their troubles sought her sympathy and 
help, and in neither case did they have to seek in vain. Her liberality 
often needed to be restrained, because of its readiness to do more 
than her proper share ; no one, I believe, can remember a single 
instance in which it required to be stimulated. Wives have been 
known to restrain their husband's generous impulses from a fear that 
their own interests might sufiTer. Her wifely influence was exerted 
all the other way. One could not conceive of her trying to hold back 
because of any regard to herself. Her greatest joy was hi distributing 
to the necessities of others ; the thing most alien to her spirit would 
have beea the thought of hoarding for herself. And even if the 
poiaibOity <>f crippled means in the future had ever presented itself to 
her thoughts, she would, I believe, in spite of all that, have given the 
^ame fiEee ezpisession to her generous impulses. She felt, if ever 
woman did, the tmth of our Saviour's words, ' It is more blessed to 
give than to lecerve/ 

" The kind and courteous manner in which all her work W(E» done 
greatly enhanced its value. She tried, and succeeded in making her- 
"^elf generally agreeable. She conferred a kindness as if she were 
receiving a favour, and did her best to make those whom she was 
helping feel that the obligation was all on her side. No member of 
the church could ever complain of her as distant or disagreeable. 
With a fine tact she could address herself pleasantly to the rich, and 
with a genuine courtesy make her way to the hearts of the poor, and 
hf her Teadiness to enter into intercourse with both alike, and ber 
^ and unconfittrained manner of addressing them, she did nrodi to 
inake them feel at home here, and to strengthen those feelings of 
amity m which a church's strength so largely consists. Even to 
stnmgers she was re?idy to show delicate attentions with which they 
cwfid scarcely i afl to be gratified, and not a few, I believe, have been 
^«i to attend "here largely through lier friendly gfeetings. She could 
speak more 'winningly than most, for her soft, musical voice ^as an 
index ^ htw kindness of heart, and she almost realised the poet's 
ideal of 

''^'Swe^ lipa, Whereon perpetually did reign 
The muamereabn of ^Iden charity. 

2 oo TIu Poetry of Sprtngn 

At all events, in her relation tons, another poet's words were verified — 

'' l^e doetU little kindnesses, 

Wliich most leave undone or despise ; 
For nought tliat sets one's heart at ease, 
And giveth happiness or peace, 

Is low esteemed in lier eyes. 

** Blessing she is ; God male her so ; 
And tleeds of week-day holiness 
Fall from her noiseless as the snow. 
Nor Jiath she ever chanced to know 
That aught were easier than to bless." 

Her end was in beautiful harmony with her devoted and 
useful life. Her mind was kept in perfect peace, and her bodily 
sufferings were borne with exemplary patience and cheerfulness. She 
felt herself to be very near heaven's gate, and had no desire that 
restored health shoxdd delay her entrance there. With all -who 
knew her, the fmgrance of her memory will abide for years to come. 
The weeping crowds who gathered round her grave showed how 
greatly she was beloved, and how deeply her loss is felt. May the 
Lord, from whom all good comes, raise up some who shall breathe 
her spirit, and ti'ead in her steps ! 

Z\t ^0etrg jof Spring. 


PEING is the most poetical season of the year. Nearly all 
poets have sung of Spring. Spring appeals to the 
imagination of all. It inspires man with its own gaiety. 
i^^ It exliilarates, stimulates, rejoices. It enters into the 
heart, not only through the eye which perceives its 
beauty, and through the ear which is charmed by its awakening 
harmonies, but through the very pores of the skin, through all tie 
nerves of the body. It is the most prolific source of pleasant fancies; 
the enkindler of glowing and glorious hope \ the inspirer of enthusiasm^ 
and of vague, indefinite, mysterious joy. It is universal in the 
lements and in the range of its fascinations. It rouses the latent 
letical elements, even of dull people. We cannot wonder, therefore. 

The Poetry of Spring. 201 

that it should elicit praise from the bards and dreamers of the race. 
The spring is always new and always welcome. The snn is as bright 
as ever he was^ and his warm rays still penetrate into the depths of 
our being. The new bloom of this spring wears in our vision the 
same freshness which gladdened our fathers, and we rejoice in the 
return of our bright-robed, light-hearted, heaven-sent friend with an 
ecstacy as rapturous, with a gratitude as lively, and with a 
responsiveness as keen, as did the first generations of the world. 

Man is never innocently glad save when influenced by the hand, 
the spirit, the power, the love of his Almighty Father. And God is- 
active in the earth at this time. Indeed, it has often struck me that 
we have in the spring, not only the most impressive, but the only 
possible, illustration of His creative energy. The original idea of 
creation is one too deep and vast for the mind of man. None but 
Deity could have sustained the consciousness of the operation. And 
yet, in watching the universal development of creation, we get a 
glimpse of the agencies, the energies, and the methods engaged in its 
original production. How much, for instance, in the phenomena of 
the earth is new. True, the germs and elements have been there, but 
effectually concealed. And not only are the same essential attributes 
at work in reproduction as were employed in original creation, but 
they are at work in very much the same way. Now, as then, tliere 
is no ostentation — no proud parade of machinerj' — no display of 
personal resoui'ces. All is wise, reserved, silent, harmonious, simple, 
spontaneous, unaffected — all is grand, great, mighty, and serene, as. 
befits the working of the hand of God. How imperceptibly the days, 
expand! How quietly come out the bloom of fruit, the buds of 
flowers, the sprouts of beautiful and useful vegetation ! With what 
majestic dignity the great trees put on their green attire ! How 
exquisitely everything finishes its own decoration; and, then how 
modestly the perfect figure stands ready for — open to — yet unconscious 
of— the universal admiration! Here there are no superfluities, no 
irregularities, no deficiencies. Now, as at the first, God makes no 
experimental mistakes. Everything is well-balanced. The propor- 
tions of the edifice are preserved. There are no awkward combinationa 
of colour, no angry Qpnflicts of force. The variety of detail contributes 
to the unity of effect. Gazing on such a scene — where all is 
expansive, generous, and vital — ^is like standing on some monumental 
remnant of chaos, and watching, in amazement and adoration, the 

Tke <Poary afSprwtqr. 

gradual devekipiiieirt and JiaErmonistftion of tise 'Qitiiwme. 39ie lieauti- 
ful atoiy of .Moses is, in a aense, Tealised before our vfoy e;«B. Hie 
shadows of a difeary past disperse. The ^finsuoneiit appeavs in its 
inimitable "c^stness and its celestial blue. Tlie light breaks fortli. 
The sun giows bright, and dear, and strong, l^he beasts of i^e £eid 
are happy. The birds of the air begin to sing. The *iishes generate 
again in the deep waters. The lowers put forth ^suraot tints, and the 
trees in bloom appear. And man himself, yielding to the magic of 
the season, roams about exhilarated and supreme-^the most wonder- 
ful, the best, the most beautiful work of God — ^the earth his home— 
his home a paradise. Yea, and in this joyous moment, we may carry 
the parallel to a higher point, and tune our praise to a higher strain. 
Again the angels sing together, and the sons of God shout for joy ; 
and God Himself surveys the wide-spread soetie, and, rejoicing with 
His creatures, again pronounces that word which is the foUcst 
epitome of His nature and the truest panegjrtic of His works — 
« Good." 

But we have a yet greater mystery in Spring — ^the grand phoiomeiion 
of universal r^eneration. The mystery of this is even greitter than 
that of creation. In the one case we see the omnipotence of will; 
in the other the omnipotence of law. In the beginning Ckxl gave 
life unto all things ; we now see the development, by Divine power, 
•of life that is self-contedned. And how beautiful is that life, and 
how boimtiful withal ! Bach specimen is rich in itself; every vessel 
is full. And there is infinite variety. Nothing is barren, bleak, or 
sterile. In everything there is a conjsultation, not of our tastes only, 
but of our necessities as well. It is to us the season of promise. 
Spring has its own harvests of food, its timely dishes, its characteristic 
luxuries. It is chiefly, however, the time of bud and bloom, when 
the first germs of vegetation make their appearance. And now 
Nature seems to be gathering for us good stores for fdture use ; and, 
gazing on the landscape, we seem to see the gradual spreading of 
a wide table, at which the whole family of mankind shall soon sit 
down for feasting and for refreshment. Would that l3iat tsible were 
really a. table of oommunion--<rf conmranion in interest anfl in sym- 
pathy — a communion of gratitude and love— a communion of regene- 
rated humanity — a cmmntmion of piety tenewed ! But, alas ! whilst 
w« Imve '€he promise of tctundng suzmtnet without, life winter of 
<l]Sunion, discontent, «nd selfishness aixiides widdn. How true it is 

The Poeiry ^ Spring. 20^ 

that "oolf man k vile" ! We have our,lawju»^kav«.tfae floweis,; ixxji 
welive Ja disobediaaee ! We have the nfioeesities and 'ohligHtioro 
of luffiDOBy, o<M>pBiation^ and unity^ as JSatute aonmd ^x» hoA ; but 
we yield ourselves to intaieBts that are isolated, to passions Uiat axe 
psnenal^ to jpaisaits that axe sini8teir> to resoive? that are malignant, 
to dedaes that ace .misohie vons, to dBspeiations that are deadly. We 
have a glowing example without, and conscience si^)plies abundant 
admonitians withizL And yet, in spite of the godly jurecepts and the 
uiiveiBal example, we go on in our own ways of itapetuosity, al 
conflict, and of avarioe, woirking only for our own good, save when 
we aie engaged in the still less noble task of doing others liarm I 
Let us weep. 

Of how many virtues do the phenomena of Sprii^ present the 
types ! In fields and gardens, in hedgerows and quiet nooks, in trees 
and shrubs, and on the broad surface of the earth, we may now see 
the versatility of If ature. This universe is not a thing of regular 
angles and straight lines and dull monotony and tasteless uniformity. 
Its colours are varied, its processes complex, its aspects ever-changing. 
But Nature is always consistent and co-operative. One part is not 
at variance with another ; and each element preserves in every com- 
bination its unbending, its immutable, and its immaculate individuality. 
Amid all the gaiety of this season, too, what a look and spirit of 
innocence pervades it ! IS" ature decks herself as a bride for the altar* 
not as the vain woman for admiration, still less as the voluptuary to 
make her seductions the easier ; and as, thus dressed, we gaze upon 
ter, we feel that her beauty is but the poetry of her sinlessness. Her 
merriment, also, is sweetly pure and sublimely blesaed. She laughs, 
but it is with the unsophisticated gladness of the child; jQot with the 
leer of the professional jester, still less vrith the nilgai* madness of 
the debauchee. And, again, what a glorious principle of perseverance 
there is throughout the universe ! How the littlest things push their 
way to the completeness and the triumph of their life ! How in- 
cessant is the growth, how restless the activity, how grand and 
continuous the progress ! And yet these virtues are not ostentatiously 
paraded. Nature ia always meek. There is no appearance of con- 
piousness, much less of pride. So should it be with man. Goodness, 
like genius, scarcely knows itself ; and even^hen it does its self-know- 
l^Ige is rather an axstive modesty than a passive conceit. As we see these 
virtnes rising and expanding all around us, may we not aspire to their 

204 A Trtlogy. 

possession ? What grandeur and what charm they give to Nature ! 
Bobed in them, she seems like a great prophetess telling us of our 
duty, and by the very simplicity of her teachings rebuking our defects 
and our ^^ces. Thank God, moreover, if Spring presents us with the 
symbols of virtue, it also supplies us with moral stimulus to its 
cultivation. Those who have never felt the moral influences of 
Nature have fallen short of incalculable blessing in their life. Wlio 
can be sluggish now ? May we not be subdued to prayer by the 
delicacy, and stimulated to praise by the splendour, of the season ? 
Who can be ungrateful, and who undevout ? If we walked more in 
the fields, gazed oftener on the broad and brilliant sky, and oftener 
examined with discriminating eye and reverent taste the beauty of 
the earth, we should be better men and better women. We should 
be less selfish if we had more fellowship with Nature. The same 
blessed habit would make our piety deeper and more consistent. 
For in Nature, and in those elements of consciousness to which 
Nature addresses herself, we are constantly reminded of God. 

"There's not a strain to memory dear, 
Nor flower in classic grove ; 
There's not a sweet note Karbled here, 

But minds us of Thy love. 
Lord ! our Lord, and Spoiler of our foes, 
There is no light but Thine ; with Thee all beauty goes." 


|Y -Lord, I feel Thy enfolding presence nigh 

Waiting to catch my spirit's breathed sigh ; 
And through the stillness of the listening eve 
I hear Thee speak, — " Ask, and thou shalt receive." 
With strong desire I syllable Thy name ; 
Assured, I touch Thy very garment's hem. 

Oh, that I knew where I might find the Lord ! 

Though through the darkness rings His faithful word 

Far down the ages, — " Seek, and thou shalt find " — 

Yet in this baffling twih^^ht of the mind 

Chiiat seems q6 far, and I so sore alone : — 

Rend, rend the clouds that gather round Thy throne. 

Religious Piays. 205 

I stand afraid before His gates. Ah me I 
The door is baired, the Lord hath turned the key. 
To angnish'd prayer no answer can I gain ; 
Mnst I, despairing, make friends with my pain ? 
Ah no ! the Lord of Tmth once said to me, 
'' Knock, and it shall be opened onto thee ! " 

L. M. D. 

|leli0tims ^lap. 

HE attention recently given to the Ober-Ammergau Passion 
Play leads us to call to mind what old chroniclers have 
recorded concerning somewhat similar ones in our own 
country, about the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth 
centuries. We propose to abbreviate some notices on this 
subject It appears that miracle plays and dramas from Scripture, 
continuing several days, used to be acted in London, and were 
regarded with interest, and held in honour, by the people. The 
fiist kind were so called because they consisted of sacred plays, 
or representations of the miracles wrought by the holy confessors, 
and the sufferings by which the perseverance of the martjrrs was 
manifested. The church was usually the theatre wherein these pious 
dramas were performed, and the actors were the ecclesiastics or their 
scholars. The first play of this kind specified by name is called 
" St, Catherine," and, according to Matthew Paris, was written by 
Geofrey, a Norman, afterwards Abbot of St. Albans. This person 
was sent over into England by Abbot Bichard, to take upon him the 
direction of the school belonging to that monastery ; but, coming too 
late, he went to Dunstable and taught there, where he caused his 
play to be performed about the year 1110, and borrowed from tlie 
sacrist of St. Albans Capse Chorales some of the ecclesiastical vest- 
ments of the abbey to adorn the actors. In later times these 
dramatical pieces acquired the appellation of mysteries, because the 
most mysterious subjects of the Scripture were frequently chosen for 
their composition. According to the Wife of Bath's Prologue in the 
"Canterbury Tales," the miracle plays in Chaucer's days were 
exhibited during tlie season of Lent, and sometimes a sequel of 

Scripture histories waa- earned on far sefreral days. In the reigu of 
Eichard II., A.D. 1391^ the parish clerks of Lpndon pulforth a play 
at Skinner's Wells, neac Smithfield, which. coniinued thoee days ; tlie 
king, queen, and mai^ of the nohiliiy beang preoentt at the perform- 
ance. In the succeeding reign, tiiot of Henry IV., a.d. 1409, another 
play was acted at the same place, and lasted eight days. This drama 
began with the creation of the world, and contained the greater part 
of the history of the Old and New Testament. It does not appear 
to have been honoured with the royal presence, but was weU attended 
by most of the nobility ami gentry of the realm. 

The last of these performances no doubt bore a close analogy to 
the mystery entitled Corpus Christi or Ludus Coventrise, tha Gsmat- 
try Play ; t^nscripts of which, nearly, if not altogether, coevaTwiBi 
the time of its representation^ are yet in existence. The prolqpe of 
this curious drama is delivered by three persons who speak dter- 
nately, and are called vexillatois. It contains the axgmnentof the 
several pageants, or acts, that constitute the piece, and they amovnt 
to no less than forty; and every one of these aetB' coitsiste of a 
detached subject from Holy Writ, beginning with* the cretttion' of 
the imiverse, and concluding with the last judgment. In 1^ frst 
pageant, or act, the I>eity is represented, seated on Ms tSmme by 
Himself, and' delivering a speech of forty lines. The angels th^i^enter, 
singing from the Church Service, " To Thee all angefis ciy- alooi, Ac* 
Lucifer nextf makes his appeaxsnce, and desires to know if the hymn 
they sang was in honour of Grod, or in hemnir of him V The goed 
angds readily reply *'in honour of GFod ; " the eviT angria ine&e' to 
worship Lucifer, and he presumes to seat himself in the throne of 
the Deity, who commands him to depart from heaven to hell,, irtiidi 
dreadful sentence he is compelled to obey, and, with his widced 
associates, descends to the lower regions. This play wae acted by 
the Friars, Minors or Mendicant Friars, of Coventiy, and eammeoeed 
on Corpus Christi day, whence it received its title. Fc» the per- 
formance of these plays they had theatres for the several scenes, veiy 
large and high, placed upon wheels and drawn to aU the> endoiiit 
parts of the city for the better advantage of the eqpactatQro. Mystenes 
often consisted of single subjects, and made taut one -p&tiumDWBe^ 
Th the Bodleami Libmry two may be met* with ; the sabjefit^^ane^ tiie 
conversion of St. Paul, and of 1^% other, the castiiq; out Cff^tfae dbvils 
ftDm-Ilfary Mligdaioiie; ISitmttetaBdiB^ th« seriouanflB^of) tile Mb» 

jects, i^ 96096 cloac tiiey were nob exfaibit»d ivithont; a pcprtioii of 
pantonmnifii^ fnm to make them palatablis* to the vidgar tSBste ; and 
kidted ths" IflRigtfa. and ^m dohiesa of tto. spaeobea loqiuxed some 
sach assistaQQB' to enlxven them and keeg the speetaboni ia good 
htunomr. Xhis may be the reason why the myrtenes am in geneiBl 
much shorter tiban. the modem play& BeeLsebnh seems to have been 
ih» prinoipal oomiQ actor, assisted, by his meny troop of under devils, 
who, with variety of noises, strange gestures, and contortionB of body,, 
excited the laughter of the populace. 

The ecclesiastical plays, as already observed, were usually pexfoimed 
in chuTohes or chapels, upon tempoiaiy seafTolds erected for tliat 
puipoee, and sometimes, wheox. a sufficient number of clerical actors 
irereiiot to be proeured, tiie churchwardens and chief parishioncars 
caused the plays to be acted by the secular players, in ordw ix> collect 
money br defirajiing oharch expenses ; and in many instances they 
boRDwed the theatrieal apparel from other parishes when they had 
none of* their own. Acting plays in churebes- was much declaimed 
agidnsi by die religious writers of the sirteentii century ; and Bonner, 
Bishop, of London, in 1540, the twenty«4;hird year of the reign of 
Henry YIII., issued a proeltaiation to the clergy of his diocese,. 
prohibiting alt mflnmer of common pieyS) games, or interludes to be 
played^ set toith, or declared wrthin thetrchurdies and diapels. 

In Cornwall: the miracle plajrs were differently represented. Tliey 
ireie not parfionned in the churehes, nor under any kind of cover, but 
in the open air, as we leam firom Carew, whose words upon this subject 
are a»{ollow»:— " Hie {uary-miiaole— in Englii!^, a miracle play — is a 
kind of interlude conqstled in Oomish out* of some Smpture history 
with the grosBOiess which accompanied the Bonumea Yetus Comedia. 
For representing it they raise am earthen amphitheatre in some open 
field, hanring the dtametu* of tileinelined plane from forty to fifty feet 
The country people flock frem all sides, many miles off, to hear and 
see it, for they have therein devils and devices to delight as well the 
eye astbefear. like playeraoou not* their parts without book, but 
are promptod by one called tte ordinary^ wfaofeUoweth at their backs 
widk the book in his hand and t^eth them what to say. In the 
Hatrleiaa^ lateasy ia preseorved' a miracle play of this land in the 
Coanish JangnegO', mtten by IWflUiMD- Gkudniii ajx, 1611, accompanied 
with anr BogHsbitraaariaition. It begins- with tiie Ghreation, and ends 
witii .Noab'e tkmd. IVoab hdiuetf oonolndesitiie' jd^y wi& an addresa 

2o8 Reitgtous Piay$. 

to the spectators^ desiring them to come to-morrow, betimes, to see 
another play on the redemption of man ; and then, speaking to the 
musicians, says, " Musicians, play to us, tliat we may dance together, 
as is the manner of the sport." Such a ridiculous jumble of religion 
and buffoonery might well excite the indignation of serious peopk 
This species of amusement continued to be exhibited in Cornwall 
long after the abolition of the miracles and moralities in the other 
parts of the kingdom, and when the establishment of regular plavs 
had taken place. 

Before closing, a few remarks should be offered on the moral influence 
of these exhibitions. None can fail to be impressed with the feeling 
that, so far as these plays were acted in scenes of sacred worship, they 
must necessarily have very greatly tended to diminish the sense of 
reverence which should always be connected with the building where 
we meet before God, and where it is so desirable that the mind 
should be elevated above all associations that would lead to trifling. 
How could it be otherwise than that, at times of stated service, a 
feeling of the ludicrous should intrude itself into the minds of those 
who might desire to be affected with better influences ? — ^while, of 
course, this would be allowed and cherished by the greater number 
of the undevout. Nor can we doubt that this would be increased 
and intensified, as the officials, vestments, &c., would be identified 
with the recent players and performances. Bestraining power for 
every-day life must have been weakened, and the general spirit oi 
the people correspondingly lowered. Our Lord said, '' Make not my 
Father's House a house of merchandise." Much more might He say, 
" Make it not a house of trifling and amusement." 

As to the exhibitions themselves, they must have formed a 
grievous degradation of the subjects they presumed to treat, stripping 
the great Scripture facts of their solemnity and teaching power, and 
not a little holding up to ridicule realities that should have been 
attended with far different feelings. 

It cannot but blunt the mind to the deeper impressions that are 
desired, when sacred subjects are at any time dius brought down 
from the lofty position they ought to hold. The historical imagination 
of each may deal with them ; but, when presented in outward sliow, 
they cannot but be vulgarised and held up to contempt. Especially 
tliis is true of the greatest subject of all We can never think of the 
act of human redemption beiog represented in the form of a " phiy," 
without a feeling of shrinking and a sense of profanity. 

An Eclipse and its Lesson. 209 

It seems to us repelling that the most solemn, sublime, and 
pathetic of all events should be thus dealt with. Such a matter is 
too high for scenic treatment. The physical would eclipse the 
spiritual, and the great reality of the atonement be overlooked in the 
painful witnessing of simulated bodily tortures. Some, speaking of 
the Passion Play at Ober-Ammeigau, have described the effect upon 
themselves as not unpleasing, and that tears and silence bespoke the 
sympathy of the audience. All this must have been purely sensuous. 
Who can believe that any returned firom the scene with a more vivid 
spiritual conception of the work that 1850 years ago was accomplished 
on behalf of our race, or with any greater disposition to repent of and 
forsake the sins that crucified the Lord of glory? We can only 
express our satisfaction that attempts made both in America and in 
this conntiy to introduce the German drama have met with forcible 
and effective discoimtenance, and we trust public feeling will ever be 
strong enough to secure prevention. Never may the irreligious 
tendencies of the day be helped by such a travesty of the awe- 
inspiring solemnity ; and never may the religious sensibilities of the 
country be wounded by what would be felt to be not only an offence 
to good taste, but an insult to all that we feel holiest and most 
mysterious in our world's history. 

%n €tXv^^t anb tis IS^t^Mxt. 

ONDAY, the 15th of March, 1858, had been anxiously 

anticipated by astronomers ; but, to their disappointment^ 

it dawned in clouded obscurity, and it was soon evident 

that the phenomenon, which so many were bent upon 

observing, would baffle their designs. Thick, heavy, and 

almost unbroken clouds shaded the whole firmament ; and, but for the 

increasing darkness, — slowly deepening, and then, having attained its 

completeness, as slowly passing away, — there would have been no 

perceptible difference between this and any ordinary morning of 

gloom. Behind that range of ebon douds^ however^ one of those 

profoundly interesting, and, to common observers, wonderful occur- 


290 An EdipH and vb JL€6slm. 

rcnoes mB& fakvag {flace/ which testify to libe coder of 'the vmtene, 
and *k) the vm^aai aad ponrac of Ab Crealbnc. Sonae iiews after *fte 
QBfipse nma over,tive majestiG lanainaij, as if t» aigert^willi glidness 
Ibs tnhimpbant oatfaoiifey, fandoe tfarongh the YspoorGi, and dispenwd 
the chrads. Swdi was the day m the W«8t of Et^hmd. But we 
ksxre tbese aspects of the ^evient in which science was specially 
i a tereg te d, to aoteihe pecnidar ntigioiis lessen wtUdi it supplied. 

JTfae day wss dnradng to its dose when two fciends who wew dear 
to «ach other, but whose busxness eEiigagexosntB keft them apaert 
dtanttg its eaadier honss, naet^ as they often tM, isst an ^wnj^iitroll 
TSatir eooonraiBation nsbmaSij adverted Id the salijeQt ttf the eclipse, 
and theBr:regtet was nmtnal Ihat a dtoodsd atmospliere had fvevented 
their survey of the UeflPitifiil phenomenfiKi. lEhe tittnsi^s was 
eqtnlly nitaml to theines of higher import ; for %lffiy w^e young men 
of genvioie and gnowing piety. JLam easy it is to findssitaible themes 
far i^mttoal inteToonrse, and to ^de ietio iBStrartitQ and Tefreshsng 
talk about flsem, when the^hs&rt has its blessed pnsferances far them! 
SHth liiesnes ase never wBntin^ to die s^nritaally nnnded ; ser are 
thejr eser without their chsrm. ^'Whosoever shall drink of this 
ymtisst shall ftimt again ; bat whosoever dtinheth of t&e water tiiai I 
shall give him shall never thirst ; but the water Iftntt I 'shall gm Urn 
shall be in him, a well of water springing up into everlasting life." 

"Were you not struck with our minist^^r's choice of a text 
yesterday morning ? " said Leonard. 

" In what way ? " replied his friend Percy. " I tiiought it a most 
edifying discourse, and much enjoyed the truth propounded, especially 
as I found it so applicable to my recen t experience." 

" Yes," said Leonard, " and to the experience of all who kaosr islIi 
of 'the conflicts and sorrows of human life ; but more .partictAsdy to 
the e3q)erienee of those who are familiar with ihe temptatioM and 
hanlships and chastenings of the Christian warfare. But what 
epedidly stnrdk me was. the suggestiveness of £he text taken in 
connection with the event of to-day which we were aH anticipating. 
I Hiouj^ of the coming eclipse at once when our minister announced 
the words : ** I will wait upon the Lord, that hideth His face firom 
Jacob, and I will look for Him."* Indeed, daring the zeadii^ of the 
chaqpter previously, the analogy vividly presented itself to -a^ nrind. 

• IsthAvtii. Vt, 

An £cl$^B .<md Us Lessd^. ^hv 

Que could ^aUuoBt iioggine tlMt the^pcDphet hAdw>6cly)ai»^u^ lus* view; 
iriieii ke tkuB apeaks of the Lovd ' hiding Hia ftiee ixwox -Jaeob/ und^ 
of his own detarauBation to ' look for .Him '--^iis if ha would not 
avert his e^es for an instant, but« like the estrnaBt ^atokasi ior tlie 
obscured luminary, keep a steady laak out for Ihe ratonvof -HiA oiear^^ 
unshadowed lustre." 

" Yes ; and as you mention the idea, Looiaard, it strikes me with a.^ 
force which. I did not faefbre, perceive. You remember Mr. AUerton 
adverted to the sun as being sometimBs hidden by clouds, but as being, 
"^lliehind them in all his atrei^gth 4vnd gloiy— ^the 'obsta&k inters- 
captmg his rays, not osoly haYiiig no effect 44^7011 the sun himself, but 
being also of teanporaiy duration — not remaining with him, but sooner 
()t later passing away^ to leav^^oiu' vision ^lear and satisiied as before, 
labuost wondar heididruot adveit also to the adipse as affosxUng' 
another and still more suggestive illustratioda." 

" So it appeared to me. But 1^ do nx»t always s^ASse tupon an idea 
at the moment of its most direct applicability. Iii]k>4aubt4t presoutod 
iuelf the moiB readily to my mind from the previous tenor of my 
thoughtsL Was it a similar feeling that prompted Cowper to write 
the well-known and evep-com&rting lines :— 

^ Ye ftMurfol saints, fresh courage take ; 
llhe elouds ye so mucb. dxaad 
Afe' b^ -wiih mercy, -and shall h^eak 
In blessings on your head. 

" Judge not the Lord by fearful sens^ 
But trust Him fhr His grace : 
Beliind a frowning PWvldence, 
He bides a smiling fiiee ! ^ 

"Alas I Leonard, how many tilings darken our view of heaveuly 
raalitiee ! " 

"And eclipse our faith!" suggested his friend. "Is it not true, 
Percy, that we are more ready to acknowletlge Uie hand of Clotl iii 
^Tight, advantageous Providences than in those which seem to us tu 
be of an adverse ohaiacter ? " 

" I fear it is so. At least my own heart often betra^js me into thip 
sad impropriety." 

"Yet our faitli ought to be as intelligent and as firm in the one set 

of Providences as in the other. We should heep in mind the fact 

that all God's designs^ spiritual as well as natural, ane regAlaleU by 

* - 14* 

212 An Eclipse and tts Lesson. 

unerring wisdom, goodness, and truth. Those great orbs which roU 
through space are obedient to His will, and fulfil the law of their 
being continually. It is only man — ^restless, ambitious, discontented 
man — ^that struggles against tiie will of his God, and would fain become 
the former and controller of his own destiny." 

" Yes, and thus it is," said Percy, " that he has to be brought 
through afflictive and humbling processes to the submissive obedience 
without which he cannot live aright." Percy thought of the way in 
which he himself had been led to the Gross. He was naturally proud, 
independent, self-reliant ; and had early fallen into a sceptical habit 
of feeling and of thought under the influence of infidel books which 
had come in his way, and of youths with whom he had associated 
even more unreflecting and irreligious than himself. But having been 
brought into contact with Leonard in the way of business, his new 
friend invited lum to attend the ministry of Mr. Allerton, which, 
after a slight resistance, he consented to do. The arrow of conviction, 
directed by the Divine Spirit, went deeper and deeper into his soul ; 
and at length the death of an only and almost idolized sister com- 
pleted the glorious work. Continuing his remarks, he said : '' Oh, 
Leonard, how rebellious I have been ! How have I murmured at the 
Hand that robbed me of a sister's companionship! It seemed 
unbearably hard to have to give her up, especially when I was just 
beginning to learn and appreciate the blessed truths which she had 
known and loved so long." 

" But are you quite sure, Percy/* said his friend, " that your know- 
ledge and appreciation of those truths would have been deepened and 
confirmed by any milder process than the one which your Heavenly 
Father saw fit to employ ? Was not your love for Lilian of such a 
nature as to suggest the probability that a motive not sufficiently 
pure might have mingled with your newly awakened aspirations, had 
her society been permitted to share in their moulding influence? 
You know how the Saviour displayed His omniscient scrutiny of the 
human heart, when he said to the young man, * Yet one thing thou 
lackest.' That ' one thing ' was the preference of God, of Christ, to 
all beside ; and when the ' lack' of it was shown to him, he could 
not bear the discovery, but ' went away sorrowful.' Perhaps this 
love for your sister was the * one thing ' which the loving Saviour 
recognised as the special hindrance to that full surrender of the heart 
to Him which His own all-perfect Sacrifice demands. And so, in 

One Step More. 213 

compassion to your weakness^ He Himself removed the idol which 
He saw was so great a danger to you. It was a time of great dark- 
ness. The sun of God's love was eclipsed. But you ' waited upon 
the Lord that hideth His face from Jacob ; ' you ' looked for Him ; ' 
the eclipse ended, and the light shone down upon you again more 
brightly and cheeringly than before." 

" Yes, I see it now," said Percy. " Far better to suffer thus, than to 
incur the doom, ' Ephraim is joined to idols ; let him alone.' '* 

" Percy," rejoined his friend, " God's love was shining fervently, 
notwithstanding the darkness which encompassed you. It was not 
eitinguished ; it ^.as not weakened ; it was only ecUpsed. And it 
¥aa by the eclipse that God's gracious design was accomplished." 

As the two Mends parted for the night, Leonard said : " In all 
fdtnre events, especially when God seems to be hiding His face, let 
OB say, * I will look for Him.' " Kate Pyer Eussbll. 

|HAT though before me it is dark, 
Too dark for me to see 1 
I ask for light for one step more ; 
Tis quite enough for me. 

Each little humble step I take, 
The gloom clears from the next ; 

And, though 'tis very^dark beyond, 
I never am perplexed. 

And if sometimes the mist hangs close, 

So close I fear to stray, 
Patient I wait a little whUe, 

And soon it clears away. 

I would not see my future path, 

For mercy veils it so ; 
My present steps might harder be 

Did I the future know. 

And so I do not wish to see 

My journey in its length, 
Assured that, through my Father's care, 

Each step will bring its strength. 

Thus step by step I onward go, 

Not looking far before ; 
Trusting that I shall always have 

Light for the '^ one step more." 

Et the lath Rev. W. EoBweou, of Cambridge. 

" New onta Him tlutt u M» to heep jov from bUiag, and to pnMot jo* 
fftoltlcss before the presence of His i^lory with exceeding joj, to the only wite 
God our SnviDur, be gloiy and majesty, ilominion and pova, both now md erer. 
■ Amen,"— JrUE 24, 25. 

ERY gloomj' is tdie tale' of man as presented in Hiia epatle, 

and, indeed, everywhsre else. Hard spaeches and wicked 

actions corrupted the earth before Noah, In the da^e ol' 

Abraham, the iniquity of the nations abont liim wa)* 

almost full. Moses knew not how to endure the perverse- 

ness of Israel. One of the Psalmists says ; " Eivere of waters run 

down mine eyes, because they feeep not Thy law." Jeremiali wept 

over the wickedness and impending ruin of the uiDBt favoured city on 

earth. Paul pictures the world a« a sea of injuallice, pollution, and 

crime. And to this day every man of righteous soul is vexed by the 

vanity and depravity that surge around him. But amid all evidence 

of the past and present instability and shocking degradation of things 

human, the man of faitli looks upward, and his heart is comforted. 

and his tongue is moved to praise. " Horror hath taken hold upon 

me because of the wicked that forsake Thy law ; " but " Thou art my 

portion, Lord," So Jude writee of a wicked world, but closes not 

his letter without describing in lotlby strain the hope and security of 

the righteous, 

I. — Before ns are five particnlars relating to the great God. 1. — Be 
is " aUe to keep " Christians "from falling." A devout man has need of 
tliis assurance. For he knows that many who for a time seemed to 
run well, rejoicing in the light, have fallen away. He observes the 
many modes in which men may djepart from the narrow path — some 
by attaching extravagant importancse to me«ts and drinks, or things in 
themselves of only dight importance; many through vain phil- 
osophy ; not a few throt^U gnafeself-ciHifidenoe ; very many through 
a love of the world. It is not in one way ovify, but in many ways 
that men depart from the troth ; the danger is not single, but 

7%r Dtmohgy 0f yodk st^s 

mnMhtm. MoiBOTBr, tfac devoot xoaii iB^ waaft; and he kutfwtf ft. 
He knows also tbat the vodd aoxd the fljoah am notrthe anlyobstaeiBs 
ia hia Tvaj 1» heaven. If at times, ^en fSuth is statmg, it seems as 
tiioii^ be comld " chaee a thousand/' at other times his heart sinks 
within, him ab the thought of the inevitable hut unparalleled taslb. 
Bat he taJses refuge in the thought that " Grod is able to make fam 
stand," and his courage revives. The Eye of Power and Love whicii 
watched over Peter watches over him. What so weak, so deceptive, 
80 tremulous, so wanting in all the elements of stability, as the human 
heart! Yet it may be made firm as the pillars of heaven, and t» 
made thus firm, whenever God is with it. *' Strong in the Lord and 
ia the power of His might," Paul speaks as Jude does. " Now to Him 
that is of power to establish you ... be glor)\" Tlie senti- 
meat he uttered he had put to the test. Human nature, even if 
sinless, would be weak. Witness our Savioar, assailed by the powers 
of earth and by all the power of the devil, and in His extremity 
left alone by His disciples. Fearful even to Him was the struggle. 
Paul was not sinless. See him in Borne, sifted as wheat, with 
Alexander, the coppersmith, acting towards him, apparently, the part 
of Judas^ and all his fellow-Christians shunning him. One cm 
imagine tliat, for a moment, he was ready to repent of the wish he 
had once expressed, to be '' conformed to the death of Christ/' But, 
like his Master, he was " not alone." " The Lord stood by me, and 
strengthened ma . . . And I was delivered from the mouth of 
the lien. And the Lord shall deliver me from every evil work, and 
will preserve me imto Hia heavenly Kingdom." Christian friends, if 
the whole soheme of grace were otherwise as rich and coiiip)e<)e 
as it iS) bnt wanted the truth with which the text opens, of what avail 
would ilk. ba to us ? Our hold upon it all depends upon ouar beiflg 
"kept by thoe power of God through feith." Through fwUh; for by 
faith the feelde mind of man lays hold of the strength of God, and 
ia pinaerved «nid all danger: Hence the deep interest to wf, as long 
a» wia live, ofl the first claaise' of the Doxology — '■ Now unto Him^ that 
is able to^keep^us £ram falling, be glory." 

2l *" And to prumt yot^Jhuitiesg" or '' to cause you: to stand foulf;- 
lea&'' ^Ebe pain^ we have ocmsidered is of great importance.* To be 
kept bam going away, and losing that which we have -wrought ; to 
be hqpd from going downward^ downward ! But if that were all, otu: 
hadtege^' tbengh prized, would be exceedingly imperfect; To live fot 

^j6 The Doxology of Jude. 

evermoTe in weakness, and under the necessity of great watcbfolness 
lest we should be cast away, were, in truth, an appalling prospect. 
With joy we turn to the better promise of Divine Grace, and learn 
that it is the purpose of God so to renew His servants in the spirit of 
their minds that eventually they may be complete in holiness, so 
that, if the tempter could have access to them, it would be true of 
them as it was of their Lord, that Satan could find nothing in them. 
This Divine purpose is thus expressed : — '^ He hath chosen us that 
we should be holy and without blame before Him in love. You hath 
He reconciled ... to present you holy and unblameable and 
unreproveable in His sight." Other promises may be greater, but 
none are more precious than this — the promise that we shall belong 
to a company presented to God, not having spot or wrinkle or any 
such thing, but being holy and without blemish. Christians generally, 
and, as far as I know, universally, live in the expectation of being 
made complete in righteousness. That these minds and hearts of 
ours should be all right is so foreign from our past experience that 
we are reminded of the Israelite inquiry : " If the Lord were to make 
windows in heaven, might this thing be ? " How can it be that we, 
now so compassed with infirmities, should be free Arom them all ? 
That must be the Lord's doing, and not the least marvellous of His 
deeds. He is faithful, and He hath promised ; and therefore wiUi 
trust and gratitude we lift up our hearts, and say, " Unto Him that 
is able to present us faultless, be glory." 

3. We pass to the next clause. '' To Him who is aMe to present 
you " — ^to make you stand, to give you a place — " before ttiepresence of 
Eis glory." When Moses witnessed the Divine manifestations at 
Sinai, he quaked and feared exceedingly ; yet they were only the 
signs and proofs of the Divine Presence. Thunder and earthquake 
and lightning appal men, — ^but they are not God. Elnowing this, 
Moses dared to ask afterwards for some fuller and nearer view of the 
Divine glory, — and this was the answer : " Thou canst not see My 
face, for there shall no man see Me and live." The Bible abounds 
with hints of the same truth. Constituted as we are now, the fall 
light of the Divine Presence would be insufferable. While we are 
flesh and blood, the utmost we can do is to ''see tiirough a glass 
darkly," and even then we need to stand afar off as we gaze. But 
God is able to terminate our weakness, and to perfect our strength, 
^80 that though now we cannot bear the brightness of ihe son, much 

The Doxology of Jude. 217 

less the light which shone about Saul when near Damascus, hereafter 
we may be able to bear the unclouded splendour of the Divine 
Presence, But there is only One that can produce this change in 
us. We have no hope of becoming angels by any device of man or 
even of angels, still less by any fabled evolutions which ages or 
cycles of ages may effect. Our hope is in God alone, who, " accord- 
ing to the working whereby He is able to subdue all things to Him- 
self," will perfect our spirits and sublimate our bodies, and so fit us 
for the Beatific Vision. It is " the exceeding greatness of His power 
to usward who believe " that fills us with joy, and enkindles the 
strain of adoration and thanksgiving. '' Now unto Him that is able 
to present you in the presence of His glory, be dominion and power 
for ever/' 

4. A fourth particular. Adoration addressed to Him that is able 
to make us stand in the light of His own presence '' with eocceeding 
joy!* The presence of the glory of God, very limited in its revela- 
tions, has not always been an occasion of joy to men. Manoah and 
his wife, receiving a supernatural communication, fell on their faces, 
and the man dreaded death as the result of the vision. One of the 
most distinct visions we read of was that given to the bold prophet 
Isaiah ; but, instead of lifting up his head, and breaking out into the 
language of rapture, he exclaimed, " Woe is me, for I am undone ! " 
Daniel fainted. Paul seems to have been enfeebled for life. And 
John became as a dead man in the presence of a few rays of the 
excellent glory. But God is able so to change us, both in character 
and capacity, that we shall be at home in the midst of its full 
radiance. We think of a sinful and feeble child of earth, startled by 
a falling leaf, often troubled and downcast, sometimes terrified by his 
own apprehensions, but removed from a fleshly state in a sinful world, 
trained to the knowledge of spiritual realities by long experience 
between death and the resurrection, raised in glory, strength, and 
incoiruption, declared by his Saviour and Judge to be one of those 
who are " blessed " and who are to " inherit the Kingdom ; " weakness, 
danger, fears all past, death swallowed up in victory, Satan cast down, 
fiedemption come. Christ's glory is revealed, and he is glad. In 
possession of this exalted hope, we now laud and magnify Him who 
alone is able to make us stand amid the stupendous events of the 
last day, not only without fear, but " with exceeding joy." 

'2>i<6 7%tf Daxoiogiyi af Jude. 

5. Onca mora. He from vlionn came all out bleaaings ia magnifttf 
as '' tf^ only tpis$ Gcd vmr Safiiawr!* There are considerable diyersitics 
in die randenag of thia part of the text, and I suppose i^hen we get 
our leviaed New Testament we shall read, " To Him who is God alone, 
our Saviour throu^ Jeeus Christ our Lord." However, it is needless 
to tz»uble oujrsolves now with each criticisms, for all that they involve 
Jb in our creed as drawn from Holy Scripture. In closing the letter 
to the Bomans^ the writer, having explained at great length the 
•government of God as all-comprehending and certainly righteous, and 
in some aspects to men unfiathomable in its mystery, adds, " To God 
only wise be glory through Jesua Christ for ever." And if in the 
text we read only " God our Saviour," we aU know that He is our 
Saviour through Jesus Christ. Wliatever shape, therefore, the phrase 
may assume, we have before ua the same Scriptural truths — that our 
Gted is the only wise God, that He is the only God, that He is our 
•Saviour, and that He is so through His Son. 

He alone is wise to control all things. When the Baptist 
Missionary Society was formed, Andrew Fuller was the man at the 
helm. He was a very wise man. He watched over its pecuniary 
resources, exerted great influence in the selection of its agents, 
corresponded with them, edited the Beports of the Society, defended 
it manfully and mightily by personal intercourse with the Grovem- 
ment when the rulers of the land were jealoua of its influence, and 
stood forward as its ablest advocate against those who assailed it 
tlirough the press. The confidence reposed in him throughout the 
countT5»^ was, if not unbounded, very great; and when he died, it 
seemed as though the centre of the institution was dissolved. There 
is a rather common impression that those former days were better 
than thfflie-^-halcyon days, when all was simplicity, purity, vigour, 
piety. Most of us now read those days in the light of the results of 
the Society's work, and in ignorance ef its details. I have lately 
perused, in manuscript; ca]^s of the letters of Mr. Fullar to- the 
missionaries ivom, the beginsdng, and can assure you that fauBum 
weakness and diseppointzaeiit and vexation were as great then as 
now. Mr. Fuller was often sorely tried and perplexed; and, ti»Ni^ 
he ccmtinually took counsel of sagacious Mends, the buxdea that 
rested on him was almoBt more than he could beai^ and, thxMigh a:'iBaa 
of iron frame, at length he sank beneath iti And. when he died, it was 
found that he was not the only wise man. The illustration thus 

Tk0 D^oti^ of Jud&. ti<^ 

supplied of the poiiil; bafcMMMiB is infinitely isamote. Gk)d \b the Buler 
of aD things. Otor His wisdom univBrsal Being* hangs. And 9is 
wiadom is snfflcduBiii for its perfitet managementl The universe', apaort 
fiom ffim, IB a fiightftd mystery. Existence stretehing everywhere, 
complicated in its relations, and (as we know) MI of perils without 
die wisdom which can guide it through all changes to the highest and 
best lesnlts at last, would be confounding and terrific. But we have 
been taught to know Him who is guiding all things after tiie counsel 
of Bis own will ; and, witii tiie sublime calmness of One so great that 
He makes' this world His footstool, and so faivreaching in His 
puiposeB that with Him a thouscmd years are as one day, He is 
preparing for that vast consummation which His own eternal purpoae 
planned. That consummation we are to witness whea '' tjie Son shall 
have delivered up the kingdom to God, even the Eather," having 
**put down all autiority and power. For He must reign imtil He 
hath put all enemies undfer His feet:** To Him, almighty, all-«eeing, 
boundless in knowledge, perfec* in rectitude and love, we look up and 
reverently say: "To the only wise GFod our Saviour, be gfory and 
'^^jwitir, dominion and power, both now and ever. Amen." 

As He is the only one to whose wisdom all things are subject, so is 
He the only God. J'ude was a Jew. Tliat there is none other God 
but one was an essential and prominent article of his creed. It is 
▼ritten as with a sunbeam in the Old Testament, and distinctly 
re^fficmed in the New. " To us theije is one God the Father," and 
Kb is the God of Salvation — " liie only wise God our Saviour." He 
saves us, however, not as Hie made the worlds — '' by the word of His 
power " — but by sending^ His Son to redeem us — His Son who alone 
coiild pay the price. But why should so vast a price be required ? 
Is mm worth the cost ? A man may be bought in parts of the world 
for the value of an ox. It was not man simply, but man in a certain 
relalaon, that-had to be redeemed. See one who has been all his days 
a diunken, idle, dishonest firilow. All appropriate to him the epijdiet 
''worthless" — wortii nothing. But that man commits a crime for 
which he is sentenced to be hanged, or to be imprisoned for life. (Jo 
and try to buy hiin now. Bedeem him and make him your servant. 
I^ the richest? manin 0amfaridge-o£fer every shilling he possesses for 
tliafc worthless' num, and the oifer would- be- wholly vain. Why ? 
Because nowtheperis noten!y1fie man to be considered, but the law. 
It needs a veiy great price tb red^m one man from the cwrse of the 

2ZO The Doxology of Jude, 

law of England ; but Christ came to redeem all men £rom the curse 
of the Divine law. He has paid the price, the unmeasurable price ; 
and now God can be just and yet justify the ungodly. " Now unto 
Him who is Gk)d alone, our Saviour through Jesus Christ, be all praise 
for ever." Such tlien is the varied manner in which the Most High 
is here spoken of — as the only God our Saviour, who is able to keep 
us from falling, to make us faultless, to present us faultless in the 
presence of His glory, and with exceeding joy, 

II. — To Him there is, in the text, presented an act of reverent, joyful, 
and lofty worship. To Him be — ^to Him belongeth — ^glory, majesty, 
dominion, and power always. Always ; for to Him pertaineth tihe 
glory of the past, the present, and the future. Fuller and richer in 
its meaning than the words may seem to suggest is the closing clause. 
It is thus read by Cranmer : " To Him that is able to keep you from 
sin and to present you faultless before the presence of His glory with 
joy (at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ), to God our Saviour 
(through Jesus Christ our Lord), which only is wise, be glory, 
dominion, and power (before aU worlds) now and ever. Amen." 

" To Him be glory." There is no verb in the original It has to 
be supposed, and inasmuch as the clause, I believe, relates to the past 
as well as the present and the future, we need the present form of 
the verb. To Him is — ^to Him belongeth— glory. We look back by 
the light of history thousands of years. Heaven and earth have been 
steadfast in their changes and grand in their manifestation. We pass 
to pre-historic times — I mean times earlier than the dates of the 
Bible — and we trace the formation of the solid crust of the earth till 
we are lost amid its unfathomable periods, and still backward to that 
" beginning " which mocks our conception. And we find, far as our 
dates and far as our conceptions can travel, the workmanship of 
Almighty God. Now unto the only God, be the glory of all past ages. 
And the grandeur, the magnificence, the '' majesty." Glory and 
majesty are often dissevered — indeed, generally — ^in human afiaiis. 
Witness the newly constituted German Empire, where the majesty 
belongs to the monarch, and the glory to others. But the majesty of 
all past existence belongs to Him whose is the glory. 

And the " dominion," or, rather, the strength. Turn again to the late 
scenes on the Continent. The majesty is the monarch's, the glory 
belongs to his few advisers ; but against the Empire of France ^» 
were powerless as a moth. The strength lay with the myriads that 

TAe Doxology of Judc. 221 

mustered on the battle-field. But to God is all strength to be 
ascribed. For created strength in all its forms is derived from TTim 
who made the mountains to stand firm, and from whom came all 
power, from the wing of the fluttering insect upward to the angel 
who breathed death on the Assyrian host 

And to Him belongeth " power " in the sense of authority or right. 
To the German monarch there is majesty, to his advisers glory, to his 
army strength ; but the right of the whole matter who shall decide ? 
But to our God pertaineth 6y right all the glory, majesty, and 
strength of the ages that have rolled away. His has been an empire 
based on no usurpation, sustained by no injustice. Clouds and 
darkness are round about Him ; but there is light enough to demon- 
strate what Scripture reveals to faith — namely, that " righteousness 
and justice are the habitation of His throne." So has it heen» 

80 is it. To Him glory, majesty, strength, and right before all 
^es, and now. In the work and revelation of His Son we have the 
awful but all-animating assurance that the great universe is, by His 
boundless resources, in all its extent subordinated to an end as good 
as it is vast. Despite the clouds which sin has thrown about us 
from the zenith to the horizon, faith discerns an all-central purpose, 
which is bending all things into subjection to that eternal design 
with a view to which all things exist. 

And as it was in the beginning, and is now, so shall it ever be. 
To Him is glory, majesty, strength, and right, to all ages. Amen. 

It only remains, my brethren, that we should thoughtfully, intelli- 
gently, devoutly, make this lofty anthem ours. By such means we 
gather up the meaning of all existence. Eise to the climax of 
created joy, and come into union with Him " of whom, and to whom, 
and through whom, are all things." Here is the incense of creation 
in its utmost refinement, the highest reach of the immortal mind — 
eternal life begun below. 




" As the beams to a house, as the bones to the microoosm of man, so is oitler to 
all thmgs."— SonTHUY. 

VERY one who lias visited a number of scliools knows how 
dififerent ttiey are from each otiier in the matter of order. 
Xo order and no quiet, is' your report of one^, ,peifect 
order and impressive stillness, is your report coucemuig 
another. In the one you feel as if you weife in a congre- 
gation of rooks, each one trying to oaw louder than the rest ; in the 
other you feel as if you were in the company of bees, all so busy 
making honey that they have no tune to make a noise. 

If a school is disorderlv some at once throw the blame on the 
superintendent ; and perhaps he is not blameless. If he be a man of 
intelligence, influence, autiiority, he will so rule the school as to 
promote and almost insure order. But as no general could maintain 
order in an anny without the support of his of&cers, so no super- 
intendent can keep order in a school without being backed up by his 
teachers. Unless they keep order in their respective classes, how caii 
any man keep order tliroughout the entire school ? Sometimes one 
class demoralises an entire school The teacher has so little ruling 
power that its members are a nuisance to all the other classes. It 
becomes a great question whether one has a call to teadi at all if he 
has not the tact to control his scholars. 

Lay it down as a first principle that your teaching is a failure if 
you cannot keep order. Pope, in his Essay on Man, says, " Order is 
heaven's first law." However that may be, order should be the first 
law of every Sunday-school class. Without order kept there can be 
little instruction imparted. But if all aim to keep order it will be 
easier for each. Let there be imity in this matter : not the unity of 
the Scotchman who said that in his church they were quite united, 
for they were all frozen together ; but the unity of a happy family 
all suiting in the harmony of love. 

Hints ta Stmdcff^cbsal TisaChin. 22 j 

I To K££P ORDER isi A CLASS, ££ ^c^tDfiRLV. The tether who iff 
QDt oiderly himself cannot expect .to have an oidetly class. Hve 
orderly teacher irtakes a paint of htmg in his ^kiss ut good time. And 
good time means at least five amiutes before the exeroiaeB of flie 
school begin. The teacher should wait for lue idchoiairs ; the echdlaro' 
should not have to wait for their teacher. The late^comhig teacher 
often finds that disorder has begun befoie he ardves ; and k woold 
have been a good deal easier to prevent it than it is to euxe it. There 
are a good many three-handed teachers — ^teachers with a right hand 
and a left hand and a little beJdnd^hand ; and their classes are not 
models of orderliness. The orderly teacher makes a point of never 
leaving his class during a sitting. As the guard of the train when it 
is about to start says, " Take your seats," and sometimes shouts to 
those who are in a great hurry to get out, " Keep your seats ; " so I 
say to every teacher — ^Take your seat in good time, and keep your seat 
to the very close. You may wish to have ^ word witli one friend, or 
to make an appointment with another ; but as you would be orderly 
and maintain order, don't I Th€ orderly texicher makes a point of 
promptly obeying the superintendent's call He may not have quite 
finished his lesson when the bell rings, and he may wish very muoh 
to have a little more time ; but he must set an exaxoiple of prompt 
ohedience, and rather stop in the middle of a sentence or in the 
middle of a good illustration, than fail to show respect to his superior 
officer. No man is fit to rule who has not learned to obey. 

aie very innocent, or very indifierent — very innocent, so that they 
suspect no guUe in their scholai^, or very indifferent as to keeping 
Older in their classes. They allow their scholars to sit where they 
cannot all be seen, and, apparently, have not the slightest idea of 
what is going on beside them. They close their eyes most devoutly 
duiing prayer, forgetting that the children may not close theirs, but 
i^er take the opportunity to play most unbecoming pranks. Unless 
you know from experience that you may trust your scholars, keep a 
Watchful eye on them during the time of prayer. You may flunk 
the advice strange, if not irreverent ; but dftemtimes these ore meet 
<%raceful noises during prayer, because the teache^•^ood, easy 
QUQ~keeps his eyes cbsed^ and sees nothing of what is going om 
^fore his nose I 

Ai\gels, we are told, are full of eyeb witkm, and that giveB is a 

224 Hints to Sunday-School Teachers. 

wonderful idea of their intelligence. Teachers would need to be 
full of eyes without, so necessary is it that they should be watdifoL 
'' The blhid eye and the deaf ear '' are useful in their place ; for, 
unless we can see a good many things without noticing, and hear a 
good many things without heeding, we shall have a bad time of it 
But the blind eye and the deaf ear are quite out of place in the 
Sunday-school teacher in his class. There he must be watchful 
His scholars will soon learn that he has the seeing eye and the 
hearing ear, and conclude that they may as soon think to catch a 
weasel asleep as their teacher off his watch. 

teresting ! " you exclaim. " That is something easy to put into words, 
but far from easy to put into practice." Quite true. And yet I 
repeat — Be interesting. I have a friend who, when I am unusually 
serious, and, perhaps, engaged with sobering thoughts, sometimes says 
to me, " Smile now ! *' And I do not find it easy to smile to order. 
But my friend repeats the order until smile I must, and smile I do. 
And so I say — and say again, and yet again, to teachers — Be in- 
teresting ; and if you have the will, you will find the way to make 
your matter and manner interesting to your scholars. Did you ever 
notice how good-natured a lot of people are when they are enjoying a 
good dinner ? They may be querulous people, but that is not the 
time they are likely to quarrel. Well, if you can give your scholars 
a really good meal, well spiced with illustrations, and pleasantly 
served up, you will charm them into good-nature, and keep them as 
quiet as mice are when feasting on a piece of fine old cheese. Be 
irUei'ested, and you will interest. Have you never known a teacher 
making desperate efforts to say something when he had nothing in 
readiness to say, and when he had to fling and flounder about like an 
eel on a sandbank, when a little forethought would have enabled 
him to move with ease in the clear, sweet waters of Scripture truth ? 
It is a painful exhibition, and the scholars do not like it, and are not 
edified by it. 

Solomon says, " The heart of the righteous studieth to answer ; " 
and when teachers study in their hearts before they answer with their 
lips, their thoughts come bright with light and warm with love, and 
impressive with their interest. The teacher who does not study to 
answer is like '' the slothful man who roasteth not that which he took 
in hunting." Some teachers '' himt " a good deal, hearing this speakdr^ 

Hints to Sunday-School Teachers. 225 

and reading that book or magazine ; but they do not '' cook " what 
they catchy and cannot serve it up as a relishable meal to their 
scholais. I saj, hunt for good thoughts, by all means — ^hunt on 
heathen or on Christian ground ; but put the thoughts on the spit of 
piajer; turn them before the glowing fire of meditation; and, when 
they are thoroughly roasted, they may be served up as an appetising 
meal to your youthful guests. Unprepared lessons are like raw 
meat; and one must be hungry indeed if he can relish such a meal. 

Do not pause too long between your sentences. Young minds will 
soon wander, and, perhaps, not soon come back to the point. The 
teacher who is slow of speech may be a well-informed man ; he can- 
not, to children, be an interesting man. If you use written notes, 
have them in order, so as to be able with a glance to catch the points. 
Bo not be above using surprises. If you can say something 
unexpected and startling, you may arrest their flagging attention, and, 
having arrested it, you may keep it. A gentleman was riding on a 
coach one day, and the driver said to him, " You see that off horse, 
sir ? " *' Yes." ** Well, when he gets to the white gate over yonder, 
he win shy terribly." "What are you going to do with him?" 
''Just before he gets there, I shall give him something to think 
about" And sure enough , in several sharp cuts of the whip, he gave 
him something to think about. If, as you move along the highway 
of the lesson, some inattentive scholars should shy and threaten to 
upset the class, give them something special to think about — not 
something sharp and stinging as the application of a whip, but some- 
thing as rousing to the mind as that is to the body. 

IV. To KEEP ORDER IN A CLASS, BE FIRM. I daresay Eli was a 

veiy good man, but he had one failing as a father : liis sons made 

themselves vile, and he restrained them not. I have sometimes said 

to myself, in watching a teacher in relation to his class — ^There is 

another Eli! His scholars are making themselves vile, and he does 

not restrain them. Perhaps, you say, he cannot. And that may be 

tme, for there are some who have no authority. But in that case he 

has mistaken his vocation ; for I hold that a firm hand is as necessary 

as a clear head and a warm heart to the true teacher. " A firm hand ! *' 

some one is ready to exclaim ; " why, what has a firm hand to do with 

bringing young souls into sympathy with the Saviour ? " At any rate, 

it has not to use the lash or the rod ; for it is as true of the teacher 

as of the bishop that he is to be " no striker." There have been 


2i6 Hints te Sunday-school Teachersr. 

teachers wHo, failing to impress ytraog hearts witk fhnr kmng 
thoughts,, have not foiled to impvess youog headis with their efficial 
hands ; but such an application has no healing mftieoee, and is oat 
of place in the Sunday-school. 

And yet every good teacher must have a firm hsEiid — a hand fitm 
enough to hold the reins of government, and to rule wiril in his dass. 
If a teacher cannot command order, perfect order; if the children take 
the liberty to let their eyes wander, their tongues go; and their fcet 
shaffle, while he is speaking ; then if he had the energy of a seraph, 
the intelligence of an angel, he could not hope rightly to impress 
their hearts. In his own class the teacher is an absolute sovereign 
as well as a loving friend ; and if he is anointed of God to the high 
office, this will appear in his ability to rule well. 

Nip disorder in the bud. Be firm in putting it down from the very 
beginning. In order to this, exercise self-control; if you cannot 
Tule your own spirit, you will fail to rule the spirit of your sefaolais. 
N^ver threaten to inflict any punishment rashly, for upon second 
thoughts you may see reason to regret it. In order to this, stand to 
your word ; let your yea be yea, and your nay nay, so that when you 
have said a thing your scholars may know that you mean it. Some 
teachers are like some mothers, always threatening ; and the children 
«oon learn that the threats mean nothing. Threats shouM rarely be 
uttered, and only after other methods are exhausted; but when 
uttered, they should be meant. 


simply stands on his dignity is likely enough to have a very slender 
and uncertain footing ; but the man whose authority grows out of 
his character, and is exercised in love, will gain for himself a throne 
in the heart of his scholars. When a scholar can say, " My teacher 
is my friend," the rule of love has begun, the reign of disorder has 
ended. A poOT lesson from a loving and beloved teacher has a chann 
to the class which a grand lesson from a stranger does not possess. 
The charm of the lesson lies largely in the appreciated character of 

the teacher. 

When a good woman wished to win her husband from ill ways, and 
api^ed to her minister for counsel as to how to do it, the ministe/s 
reply was, "Always meet liim with a smile." And the smile won 
the day. Always meet your scholars with a smile, the snrile of loving 
interest and living friendship ; and as smiles beget smiles, you will 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers, 227 

live in a very heaven of brightness. Love in order to be loved — ^that 
is the secret o{ mj^ti^^t influei^ce^ AIX childreii li]s;e to catch the 
sound (rf a happy voica and the light of a friendly eye ; their hearts 
are little locks that only the key af']o^vie can open. 

'' Oh, how skilful grows the hand 
That oheyeth Love's c^iD^^Mid i 
It id the heaji imd not the bwn, 
Tb^ tiQ,the,hjighMt doth ajttain ; 
And he whg foll«weth Love's behest^ 
Far excelleth all the rest." 

Love maketh fair ; gentleness is thar teacher's truest strength. There- 
fore, be friendly with th& friendliness of lov-e and gentleness. Be 
friendly in class, without fail ; bnt be friendly out of class as well. 
Scholars like their teachers to greet them in the street, and to visit 
them in their homes ; and i^ ii?. these respects, ypu foil in witli their 
liking, they will be sure te lik^ you ; and then yeu may rule them 
by love. 

We have a good deal of reason to be friendly with them. They 
are teachers as well as scholars ; and we learn by teaching. Indeed, 
it would be hard to say which have been i:nx)st benefited — the 
scholars through the teachers or the teachers through the scholars. 
There are times wlien we feel and are ready to say — 

" Come to me, oli, ye children, for I hear you at your play, 
And the questions that perplex'd me have vanished quite away. 
What are all our contriving^, and the wisdom of our books, 
Compared with your caresses, and the gladness of your looks / 
Ye are better than all the ballads that ever were sung or said ; 
For ye are the living poems, and all the rest are dead." 

Some of your living poenas are peculiar metre, and rather difficult 
to read ; but when you turn on them the eye of love, and make out 
tlieir meaning, thoughts come home to your heart grander and sweeter 
than any you can find in books. A warm heart will discover, in each 
cliild, more or less, a living poem. The Lord of Love Himself make 
this your happy experience, then there will be little difficulty 
About keeping order in class. E. P. Macmaster. 




IROUND the sacred Paschal board 
The chosen twelve, in sad snrprise, 
With troubled hearts and wistfol eyes, 
Received the warnings of their Lord. 

He spoke of sorrows nigh at haod. 
The shepherd smitten, the scattered sheep, 
And bade them still their £Edth to keep 

In God and Him, though foes withstand. 

The mansions of the Father's home 
He to their trembling hope declared, 
A place by Him to be prepared 

Where parting griefe could never come. 

The supper o'er, He left His seat, 

Cast off His robe, a basin took, 

Unheeding their astomshed look. 
And stooped to wash their earth-stained feet 

'' Master, this shall never be ! " 

So Peter cried, and spoke for each. 

'' Yea, for a new command I teach, 
And else thou hast no part in Me. 

" To you is an example shown. 
To you and all that love My name. 
That none may ever count it shame 

To serve by love when I am gone." 

Then He who gave the weary rest, 
And called the troubled to His heart, 
In inward conflict had His part. 

An inward agony expressed. 

** Lo, as the Holy Scripture saith, 
A friend who all My love hath spumed. 
One of you twelve against Me turned. 

Shall soon betray Me to the death !'' 



Amazed, and full of anguish keen, 
Bewildered with the strange surprise, 
They look into each other's eyes. 

And wonder whom the Lord can mean. 

But soon to EUm they sadly cry, 
As, one by one, they look within 
And feel the weakness bom of sin : 

'•Lord, is it I? Lord, is it I?" 



The Humilution op Christ, in its 
Physical, Ethical, and Official Aspects. 
The Sixth Series of the Cunningham 
Lectures. Second Edition, revised 
and enlarged. By Alex. B. Bruce, 
D.D., Professor of Divinity, Free 
Church, Gksgow. Edinburgh: T. 
and T. Clark. 
Our chief difficulty in noticing this 
masterly work consists in the lack of 
space in which to do justice to it It is 
an octavo volume of 455 pages, crowded 
with bold but discriminating thought 
and with manifold learning. It is 
essentially theological, and is addressed 
to that comparatively limited portion 
of the " theological public " to which 
studies of this kind are more or less 
familiar, and which is, therefore, most 
competent to appreciate the exceedingly 
close reasonings by which the accom- 
plished author endeavours to conduct 
his readers to the conclusions which 
appear to him to be demanded by the 
teaching of Scripture. It is gratifying 
to find a work of this order reqtuxing a 
second edition, and we hope it will 
require many more. Its acceptableneas, 

as thus indicated, is a proof that severe 
theological studies are not so unpopular 
in these times of rapid and superficial 
thinking as we have been tempted to 
suspecL Our pleasure, moreover, in 
receiving this new edition is enhanced 
by the fact that Dr. Bruce, though 
giving ample proof of his theological 
independency, is not fascinated by 
modes of thought, the chief attraction 
of which consists in their novelty or in 
their divergence from the old and most 
widely recognised standards. He is 
orthodox, not for orthodoxy's sake, but 
because the results of an honest and 
thorough investigation of the great 
matters in hand require him to be so. 
All sorts of heresies, greater and smaller, 
past and present, are minutely ex- 
amined, ruthlessly analysed, and, we 
may venture to add, unanswerably 
refuted. Such a task demands an 
assemblage of qualifications which are 
possessed by only a few, but the con- 
scientious application of which to so 
important and so complicated a theme 
must be productive of great public 



The crucial passage of Scripture upon 
which the inquiry is based and from 
which it starts is the ohe in "Philippians 
ii. 6, 7, 8. The author observfes : — 

" The diversity of opinion prevailing 
amon^ interpreters in rej;!TO to the 
meaning " of this passage ^* u "eiiou^ to 
fill tiie student with dfispaiiv and to 
afllict him with intellectual pafalyaits. 
In regard to the htfivoiM spoken of there, 
for example, the widest divergence of 
view prevails. Some make the kenosis 
scarcely more than a skenosi-iiy — the 
dainty assumption by the unchangeable 
One of a humanity which is out a 
doketic husk, a semi-transparent tent, 
wherein Deity sojourns^ and through 
which His glory, out slightly dimmed, 
shines with dazzling brightness. The 
Son of Qod remaimng in all respects 
what He was before His incarnation, 
bec8»ie%hi«t he was nol, and so emptied 
Himsell OtbersascriDe to the kenosis 
some sense relatively to tiie Divine 
nature; holding that the incarnation 
involvwl even for that natttte a change 
to some iBittent; that the Son of 'God did 
not vemain in all nespects as He was ; 
that^ at least, he imderwent an occulta- 
tion of His glory. A third class of 
expositors make the kenosis consist not 
merely in a veiling of the Divine gloiy, 
but in % d^tentiation of the Divine 
nature^ so that in the incarnate Lo^s 
remained only the bare essence of Deity 
stripped of its metaphvsical attributes 
of omnipotence, omniscience, and omni- 
presence. AooGording to a fourth school, 
the keno^ refers, not to the Divine 
nature, but to the human nature of 
Clmst He, being in the form of Qod, 
shown to he a Divine man by His 
miracles and "by His moral purity, 
emptied Himseu of the Dhrme at- 
tributes with which He, as a man, was 
endowed, so far as use at least Was con- 
cerned, and in 'this self-denial set Him- 
self forth as a pattern to all Christians, 
as well 88 iitted Himself for hieing ^e 
Bedeemer from sin." 

The author 'iinds itnother discourage- 
meUt In thfe fact fhat, "as a ride, the 
interpretation of the {»a8sage in 

question depends on the intexpxeter^s 

Uieolqgical position." 

^ So mnen,^ Iw remarks, ^ is this the 
casc^ that one can almost tell before- 
hand what ^W6 1, particular expositor 
will take, provided his theological 
tohodl ht once ascertained. On the 
question, far example — a most im- 
portant one — respecting the proper 
subject of the proposition beginning 
with the %ords, 'who, being in the 
form of Gbd,' expositors take sides 
according to their theological bias. 
The old orthodox Lutherans almost^ as 
a matter of course, reply, ' The subject 
concerning whom the afiBrmation is 
made is the Logos incarnate {ensarkos)^ 
the man Christ Jesus ; the meaning of 
the apostle being, that the man Christ 
Jesus, being in ihe form of Qod, and 
possessing as man Divine attributes, 
aid nev^heless, while on earth, make 
Utile or no use of these attributes^ Imt 
in effect emptied Kmself of them, and 
assumed servile fottn, 'send was in 
ftyshian and habit as <M9i^ men.' The 
old xeform^ tfieolcgiabs, oa <lhe other 
hand, after the eanmple of the Church 
fathers, with equal unanimity reply, 
'The subject of ^hom Taxd speaks ia 
the Logos before inctffnation (tesorftos),, 
the Son of God personally pre^existent 
before He became man ; and the sease 
is, that He, bein^ in the form of Qod^ 
sitbsisting as a Divine being before the 
incarnation, entptied Hiffls3f^ by being 
made in the likeneBS df man, and 
taking upon Him the fi^ttn of a 
servant' Among modem theologians, 
the advocates of the kenosis. in the 
sense of a metaphysical sen-exinan- 
ition of ttiB 'hogo»j wheHsher belonging 
to the Lutheana or the (Reformed con- 
fession, side with the Fathers and with 
the old reformed dogmatists. Those, 
on the dther hand, who reject the 
doctrine of an imminent Tri^ty, ttid 
along with it the peorsonal .pse-ezisfeance 
of the Logos, naturally adopt the Tiew 
of the Lutheran dogmatists, and under- 
stand tiie passage ^ referring exclu- 
sively to fihe<hiritorical peMon, fhe^ttsn 
Christ Jesus. Tbejr eirin «do nothnig 
else so long as they claim to have 
•Biblical support for their theological 
dnd Chrii^logi(^ ^stettis. 'Th^ 



eaam te ikk ieift iriJili the im eon- 
ijctioA liist it cannot po«iU j contaui 
any lefexence to a &e^ conscionB act 
of the pre-existent Logos. In argmng 
witli ^sfoaban of ^bm ^tkofl, then 
is therefoie a {yrevioos qaettum to be 
settled: Is the Chtadi doctrine of the 
Trinitj Aarotaral, or is it not 7 This 
L<S indeed, me previous miestiDn for all 
Cimstologicel nieories. Eveiyonewte 
would fona tor hiatt^ a conoeption of 
the person of Christ srast £itt deter- 
mine his idea of God^ and then bring 
that idea to his Christological task as 
one of its detenniniBg factors. 

Dr. Bruce rightly anticipates that this 
* previous qmestion* is ^destined to 
become the question of the day in this 
ooontryi as it has been for some time 
past in OemiBny." 

"What is God? Is personality, 
mvolving self-consdousness and self- 
determinaticMi, predicaMe of liie Divine 
Being ; or is ite, rather it, mereiy the 
unknown and unknowable sohstcaluai 
of all phenomena, the impersonal 
immanent spirit of nature, the uncon- 
9ciou8 moral order of tftie world in whicli 
the idea of liie :good, somehow, and to 
some exben^ realizes itself^ the absoloke 
idea become another in physical nature, 
and returning to itself and attaimng to 
personditrf in man ; becoming incar- 
oile, not sn «aii individual man, bat in 
tint iKunan zaee at lai^? Siieh, 
accordii^ to all present indications, are 
the momentous questions on wliich the 
thooghte d! men are about to be con- 
<«nttat0d. AbA tf •one nmy vcnrtuie to 
predict the tesult of tfie giAatidelwte, it 
will pobably be to show that between 
Pantneism, under one or other of its 
forms, materialistic or idealistic, and tlie 
Ohdsinm doctrine of God, in md^ the 
ethical pcedomigDates, theoe is no *tauklle 

Onr anihor daes not dnm «Kemption 
hcasL thoolegieal boas in his exauuMitten 
of tke Apoatde's iwcrde. He oHtiher 
^ avoin " his *^wSak to .andve mt a ptir- 
tioakrieowfluaon ; ane, namely, trhwh 
BhaU Bingn a mallity to ihe icka <i}f a 
^evigJBthe fonaof fGodhgraineAct 

U gaciam condescension beoomia^ 
BUBL* **1 am dfia!rmi8,*'betaay% ^to 
have .grouaA for believing diat Hhe 
Apostle apeaks ber^ noit only of Ae 
esamplary ^nmiliigr of the nan Jesus, 
•but of die more wpnderfo], sdbtUneself- 
hamiliation of the pse-^xistent yerMmalx 
Son of God. For then I should have' 
Scripture warxant for believing tliat 
mortd btniam has a place wxthini the 
sphere of Hie divine nature aond tkmt. 
love is a reaSity fe God ae well as for 
man.^ He does not admit, however,, 
tiut the passage in qnestiaa must he 
stzained in order to contain snoih a 
doctrine as this. On the contrary^ he- 
says, the interpretation which finds tiiat 
doctadne ia the passage ^'appears to me- 
the only one <which wouid natontty 
occur to the mead of any person Mniag 
to the passage, bent solely on ascertain- 
ing its meanii^ without reference to 
his own theologiGal opinions." Ho 
means that he has tiie oaneciauieiaf an 
honest scholar in his interprrtilieiiy. 
though he is ready, at the same laae^ 
honestly to a^icrar the aMkor of a 4hao* 
logian; and we beliena that he haa 
substantiated his claiw. 

We will candense, as wallas we can,, 
aor author's ea^esis of the |MaH\ge>— 

'^T^e subject spoken about is the- 
historical penen Jesus Chssol, <mi- 
loeived «i; however, as havisf; prenonaly 
existed before He entered mte historf ^ 
and as in His pre-existent state suppl- 
ing material ntted to serve the htJrta- 
tory purpoee the Apoetie has in view. 
Paul deares to aet heCm the Ohiwpb 
in Philippi the mind of Christ in 
opposition to the niind of self-seekers,, 
and he includes the pre-existence in 
Ids represeatation, because Khe mind 
he mean to illnstaaite .was aetiire 
therein, and could not ba exhibited in 
all its sublimit if the view were 
restricted 'to the eaithSy career df |the 
'Great Ihceiiplar -of sefe^pemBicklMn.. 
.. ... The oAt <by wkhdi the Am ro£ 



God became man is inimitable, but the 

mimi which moved Him to perform 

^t act is not inimitable ; and it is 

the mind or moral disposition of 

Christ, revealed both in imitable and 

inimitable acts, which is the subject of 

commendation. ... Of Him the 

Apostle predicates two acts — first, an 

act of seltemptying, in virtue of which 

He became man ; then a continuous 

act or habit of self-humiliation on the 

part of the incarnate One, which 

culminated in the endurance of death 

on the Cross. * Eavrbi' iKivmvw^ — He 

emptied Himself— that was the first 

great act bv which the mind of the 

Son of God was revealed. Wherein 

did this Kivwtis consist ? What did it 

imply ? The Apostle gives a twofold 

answer — one having reference to the 

pre-existent state, the other to the 

sphere of Christ's human history. 

With reference to the former, the 

kenosis signified a firm determination 

not to hold fast and selfishlv cling to 

a state of equality with God. Thus I 

understand the words ohK 'offworfithv 

ilYi<raTo rh €hcu Xffa Ofy. • . Beyond 

all doubt, whatever rh that Ua ec^ mav 

mean, it points to something which 

both the connection of thought and 

the grammatical structure of the 

sentence req^aire us to regard the Son 

of God as willing to give up." 

It is next argued that the phrase '' to 
be equal with God" is exegetical of 
the preceding phrase ''being in the 
form of God," and that, therefore, "no 
meaning can be assigned to either 
which would involve an inadmissible 
sense for the other." Thus by "the 
form of God " we are not to understand 
the Divine essence or nature, " for such 
an interpretation would oblige us to 
find in the second clause the idea that 
the son of God, in a spirit of self- 
renunciation, parted with His Divi- 
nity. . . Mop^ does not mean the 
same thing as ^Ma or ^^n." OMa 
denotes the naked essence, f^u is the 
•&01S clothed with its ewiential pio- 
perties, while /iopff adds to. the 

essential and nataial propertieB oi the 
essence other accidents which follow the 
true nature of a thing, and by which, 
as features and colours, oMa and f^if 
are shaped and depicted. "Thus 
understood, /top^ ' pre-supposes oMa 
and 9^0'iff, and yet is separable from 
them; it cannot exist without them, 
but they can exist without it. The 
Son of God, subsisting in the form of 
God, must have possessed divine 
oif^ta and divine ^is ; but it is con- 
ceivable that, retaining the ohaU and 
the ^^j-if, He might part with the 
fjuffifh' And, in point of fact| such a 
parting for a season with the /lop^ 
seems clearly taught in this place. 
The Apostle conceives of the Incarna- 
tion as an exchange of Divine form for 
the human form of existence." 

This, then, is the negative represen- 
tation of the kenosis. It is next repre- 
sented positively, " as consisting in the 
assumption of the form of a servant, 
and in being made in the likeness of 
man. . • • The Son of God took 
human nature that He might| as a mani 
live in the form of a servant. The 
servant-form is thus not to be identified 
with the human nature any more than 
the form of God is to be identified with 
the Divine nature. The human nature 
was simply the condition under which 
it was possible to bear the form of a 
servant, even as the Divine nature is 
the presupposition of existence in the 
form of God. . • . Christ was made 
man, but He took servile form. His 
end in becoming man was that He 
might be able to wear that form of 
existence which is at the greatest 
possible distance from, and presents the 
greatest possible contrast to, the fonn 
of God. He desired to live a human 
life, of which servitude should be the 
characteristic feature — servitude ia 



ereiy concdvable sense, and in the 
€ztreine degree.'' 

A farther act in the loenom was the 
AwM^to^Mm (rcnrc<MM>i9). ^And being 
found in fashion, or guise, as a man, He 
hunbled Himself," &c The object of 
tbe apostle here is not to assert the 
the reality of Christ's humility, but to 
hold up to admiration the humanity of 
His life. ^ Haying become man that 
He might be a servant. He gave Him- 
lelf up to seryice ; became obedien^^ 
earned obedience to its extreme limit, 
submitting even to death, and to death 
in itB most degrading form." Why 
this was done is not explained ; ^ the 
reason is assumed to be known«" 

From this exposition the following 
inferences are drawn : — 

''I. The existence previous to the 
Incarnation of a Divme Personality, 
capable of a free resolre to pjerform the 
sublime act of self-exinanition, which 
is^oed in the Incarnation. 2. This act 
of self-exinanition involved a change of 
itate for the Divine actor; an exchange 
of the form of God for the form of a 
KTTant 3. Notwithstanding this ex- 
change, the personality contmued tiie 
same. ... He who emptied Him- 
self was the same with Him who 
hombled Himself ; and the henatM and 
the ^petnofis were two acts of the same 
fflind dwelling in the same subject. 4. 
The humiliation (tapeinosis) bein^ a 
perseverance in the mind which lea to 
the kenosis implies not only identity 
of the subject, out continuity of self- 
conaciousness in that subject 5. 
Chiisf 8 life on earth was emphatically 
a life of service. 6. Throu^out the 
whole drama of self-exinanition Christ 
vaa a free asoit. . • . The kenosis 
must be eUdcally conceived, not as 
bringiiur the subject once for all into a 
state of ]^hysical inability to assert 
^oality with Qod, but as leaving room 
for a volontaxy perseverance in the 
Oki&d not to assert that eq^uality, on the 
jut of One who could do otherwise. 

. . • These inferences are all in 
bannony with the main scope of the 

passace, wluch is to eulogise the 
namuity of Christ" 

Dr. Bruce deals in the same masterly 
manner with the subject as presented 
in the 2nd chapter of the Epistle to 
the Hebrtsws ; but we must halt Our 
readers will see the foundation on 
which the great argument is built In 
the light of these piinciides, all the 
various Christolpgies which have ob- 
tained currency are minutely examined. 
Modem kenotic theories and modem 
humanistic theories of Christ's person 
are brought into notice. One of the 
most interesting and useful of these 
seven lectures is the exposition of our 
Lord's subjection to temptation and 
moral development The series closes 
with a setting forth of the Humiliation 
of Christ in its official aspect, in which 
the momentous question of the Atone- 
ment is discussed. Dr. Bruce has pro- 
duced a standard work on his great 
theme, which theological students and 
the more thoughtful preachers of the 
Gospel will for many years to come be 
glad to consult 

The Life of Alexander Duff, D.D., 
LL.D. By George Smith, C.I.E., 
LL.D. Popular Edition. With 
Portraits by Jeens. Price 10s. 6d. 
London : Hodder^& Stoughton. 

The last July number of this magazine 
contained a full notice of the former 
("Library") edition of this most in- 
teresting and instmctive biography; 
and, therefore, it is only necessary for 
us now to express the extreme gratifica- 
tion with which we have welcomed this 
new edition prepared for popular use. 
The original work was an elaborata. 
chronicle of a great man's life, and wt 
rejoice to find that it does not re- 


iq^pear iat a jnutilated iovm. '' CSufiter 
xiv. of the first edltkai, <m the i«diium- 
tional controveny with Lord Auckland, 
has been omffcted, aend sevens ctf the 
other -chepterB have been slightly 
altered. B«t every word relating to 
the evi^e^zaltiein off the non-'Christiaoi 
worid 9h» been retanied.^ Dr. Dtiff 
takes rank wMi Hhe veiy noMert of 
modem Ohri^an nrisnonaries, whether 
of one denaminatien or another, and 
' his truly grand histoiy is worthily told 
in I3iese pages, which ev*ery Ohiistian 
and every sceptic in the land might 
read with incalcnlable pwifit. This 
"popular edition" is presented in a 
style which ifits it for a conspicuous 
place in any well-seftecfted tmd good- 
looking libroiy. 

The Basis of Faith : A Critical 
Sorv^ of the Grounds of Christian 
Thedsnu The Congregational Lecture 
for 1677. By Eustace R. CondBr, 
M.A. Second Edition, Bevised. 
Ecice J6&, Hodder & Stoughton. 

Thb Congregational Union Lectureship 

has been doing' good service over a 

period of some fifty years. It was 

established to promote Biblical science 

' 4Uid theological and ecclesiasticallitera- 

' ture. Many of the ablest men of the 

Independent body have been called to 

it, and Mr. Conder does not suffer by 

comparison with any of them. Tids 

worl^ "The Basis of Faith," supplies 

one of our best defences of Christian 

theism against the Teasonings of its 

modem Agnostic oj^onents. .-Such a 

book could not hswe been widtien fifty 

-years agq, for the simple .roason that 

theve was no oocasion for it. The 

- oeoasion has aciseiQ, and -Mz. Conder 

. hsB tomad it to.good account. iEe has 

detected 4fae weak places in the acmoar 

'Ot sdentific and metaphysiaal ludwtis^ 
and has shot his arrows iaio tboa with 
a «taa4y 4nd vigorous huid. fiis a^ga- 
mADt is ««mprah£iMtt« witkoat hsbig 
xedundant, condensed without hcii^' 
ortiBped, easy without bemg attaaoated, 
unoompiFouisiQg without beiig^ un- 
Aouiteous. It is le&aAiog 40 find sa 
calm and fearless a thinker, »» straag- 
niinded and cultured a man, true fiwm 
suo&ce to core, and from- core to sar- 
.iaoe, to *^ the fiuth oiuse ^i^vemi to the 
saints." Tiua second, ireraed, and 
cbeaper edition «f his book wiU be a 
jgnAt boon te maqj veadexs, and ve 
trust thai it wiU becwme so popular tiiat 
other aftd still ^heciper editions will 
n^OBssaiily follow. 

The Exiles of Salzburg axd other 
JSTOBisa. Translated from the Ger- 
man of Qustav Nieratz (with expns^ 
^lermosnon). By Mrs. L. B. K<«tr. 
Price 4b. IleHgious Tract Bocsety. 

^GkEBiiaN stories, when good, are ubhsUj 
Tery ^ood. They ]>anre a faseiBaAiai of 
'€heirowB. They i»uch 'our ISn^BA im- 
agination and feeling in unwonted 
ways. IHiey require to benostdwith dis* 
onmiiigtion ; but when Aey ocne to 
us thfwigh 'tdie medium ttf ««r own 
•^ligious Tract Society, fSteey may he 
implicitly trusted, as at least containiiig 
'BO deletesaous dements. The volune 
befoN us eontttins thrae sfeanea, ^ Tbe 
•Exiles of Salzbm-g," "The King of 
•Prussia's "Tall Soldier," and 'The Mfiy 
tii Dresden." We have a& 4pa<e for 
epttomising them ; it nuHt saffioe to 
say that thciy are full of -ronumtic ind- 
dent, and that their moral tone 1:^ 
excellent The fiast of ;kfae thEiee will 
probid)ly dw /Kgaodei ms Ishe most 
inteiestlng and welul. The %DSk, Isr 
its price, is "beautififlly printed and 
bound, with gilt edges. 


Thi FIlbkm'b I^M)CWiiS. WilihlllM- 
tntwns. Crown ^q, 28. edL, doth 
IxMxdiy gilt «dge8. Religions Tiact 

It tMvld ^ obnotH; as aliameftd an im- 
perthieiHft to cottitnend IBtmyKii's 'Great 
Dream in a page like this )tt it 'vrotdd 
be to write (tf it in ienns df dispiaiiBfe. 
Wlio would ihiid^ of urging people to 
breathe a salabridtis titmosphete, or to 
take a tftroll in the genial spring stm- 
ebine, if Hhey had an opporttmity of 
doiBg so ? It Is encmi^ to say ctf this 
edition, wMeh Hhe BeKgioos Tract 
SooH^ bB8 4s0aed,>ai8t»while it is not 
too dainty to l)e lianfied and Tead, it is 
com^ enmigh to be an ^Mnament to a 
dnwing-Toom tafble. It i&inai'venoii^y 
ai€B|p withaL 

^LiT^ SntPfiiM^ ; or, Waste not, Want 
not A Tale. By M. A. Paoll, 
author of " Tim's Troubles, or Tried 
and True;" "Sought and Saved," &c., 
&c Hudson ft tSons. 

A VERY attractive, well-arrangsdy and 
well'Wtitten little stoiy;, by a writBr 
who is aoquiiing a waU-deaerved popa- 
laiilT^. It teaches some (practical lessons 
which young people cannot too early or 
too completely kam; the economioal 
oae of money*; tfaa Teseire even 'from 
very limited resouzces of some funds 
for benevolence and chaxity; the possi- 
bility -that an n^Eight life mi^ provcike 
a jealousy in aome i^>on whom you are 
mom or lass dependent, whioJi ehftU 
lead to -unprincipled effdetsitoTuin you; 
but that the issue 4)f such efforts \rall 
prove sooner or later that honeslQr is 
notonj^y right «paiFtliom coase^uenees, 
but».Blso '^thebestpoliijy/'andthaita 
noble Ule, whatever its uphepe, seoiaes 
itB<owQ xewBzd« 

The 9<Kk ^ lie iVtpM ^mmUk, 
tageiher with XtfmeaMiMii, ndlih 
Map^ Notes, aiMl XntnodwAioii. By 
the Rev. Jl. W. Steasne, MLA. Tlit 
QmfA wioordkng to St. Mm, with 
Map^ Note^ aad IntPoduJbtiea. By 
the Bev. A. Flunmer, M.A. Cam- 
bridge Warehouse, 17^ Patemoster 

HB3kK-au/kS8 Commeaiariee on iheOld 
Testament are compaiatively care, 9ad 
•no competent ^vciter need fear that 
in thds department <if Biblical stddy Ms 
. w<«k will be euparfluoua. The Book of 
JeBendah has a sodemn and p4thetic 
imtereat lor «U stodeats who ease ibr 
the education and moral prqgnoas of .the 
-xace. The evils of the time in whioh 
he lived -were great and aggravated. 
He clearly traced them to their sounee 
in disloyalty to God, and saw the 
terrible issues to which, they mufit 
inevitably lead. How profomidly he 
lamented these evils, and how heroioally 
be sought to overcome them, every page 
. of his writings reveals. Like Athanaeius 
at a later day, and in a moie tragic 
manner^ he stood alone against .the 
world. The historical value of his piro- 
. phecies is great, but their chief •inteiest 
to us lies in the extent to which they 
•unveil the innermost workings of his 
mind and heart He admits us into 
the very holy of holies of his 4ife ; and 
how humbling, and yet howstoengthen- 
iaag and encouraging, we find such a 
Gompamonship to be! There is no 
book which can more •effectually bring 
home to men a sense of their ingrati- 
.tude and sin, or move tenderly win 
rthean^o 'return firom'their backalidiiigs 
nad give •tbeaaelves aoiew unto ^GM. 
We e«e .theiefoie hearti]y glad that a 
•C^nn^nta^ on Jesemifdi ia^ean in 



<(Th6 Cambridge Bible for SchooV 
especially as we have found it| after a 
careful examinatioii, to be well worthy 
of the place it holds in this admirable 
series. Mr. Steame is thoroughly en 
ra^^pori with his subject, and brings to 
its elucidation a minute acquaintance 
with the best critics and historians, both 
in England and on the Continent His 
knowledge of the Hebrew text, and of 
its principal inteipretations, is fall and 
accurate ; but he preserves throughout 
an independence of judgment and dis- 
plays a keenness and vigour of thought 
which give to his notes a high and 
peculiar value. The Introduction — 
which discusses the life and times of 
Jeremiah, the character and style of the 
book, and its contents and arrange- 
ment — seems to us quite a modeL 
While the work is not beyond the 
average capacity of those for whom it 
is mainly designed, it will be cordially 
welcomed by ministers and advanced 

<<The Gospel according to John" 
has furnished a battle-ground for recent 
controversialists, and has not, there- 
fore, been n^lected. But in wranglings 
about its date and authorship we 
may lose sight of its spiritual teach- 
ings and miss its principal lessons. 
It is matter for congratulation that the 
ablest defenders of the Church's faith 
on this point — such as Luthardt, Meyer, 
Ckxlet, Sandy, and Westcott — ^have also 
given us invaluable expositions of the 
Qospel, and by these expositions have 
greatly strengthened the positions they 
have so ably defended on historical and 
apologetic grounds. To this list of 
honoured names we must now add 
that of Mr. Plummer, whose handbook 
on John would have been no discredit 
to any of the writers we have now 
mentioned. Here again we note a very 

thorough acquaintance with the litera- 
ture of the subject, an appreciation of 
all that is of real and essential worth 
in it, and power to set aside all that is 
irrelevant The Fourth Gospel can only 
be interpreted by one whose heart is 
in sympathy with its profound and 
mysterious truths. Here, if anywhere, 
love is light Logic alone is of no 
avail on ground so holy ; and, while 
Mr. Plummer is a keen logician and 
an able reasoner, he can approach the 
truth by means of that clear intuition 
and pure spiritual feeling which, for a 
Scriptural exposition, are of highest 
moment For a thoroughly scientific 
study of this gospel, the works of 
Meyer, Godet, and Westcott will always 
be indispensable ; but, for more general 
purposes, Mr. Plummer's handbook 
will be sufficient, and of works of thia 
class it is unquestionably the best 


Edinburgh: Wm. Blackwood &Son0, 

If the writer of this pamphlet has 
nothing more to urge in favour of main- 
taining the alliance between Chnich 
and State than he has here advanced or 
hinted at|^^there can be but one answer 
to his question : '< Ought the Church of 
Scotland to be disestablished?'' He 
says absolutely nothing to show that it 
should not A more one-sided argu- 
ment we have never met with, nor one 
that more neatly ignores inconvenient 
facts. Will the writer tell us whether, 
if voluntaryism has proved itself un- 
able to evangelise the masses, State 
Churchism has accomplished the taakf 
whether, in view of the recent *< Scotch 
Sermons,* the Ocnfeuion of FaUk 
which ht declares (as a *^gxeat U««- 



ing^ to be unalteiaUei is maintained 
bv the ministexe of tke Kirk 1 whether 
he belieree the property of the Free 
Chotch to be as truly and jostly the 
property of the State as that of the 
Established? and whether it is honut 
to reckon as members of the Established 
Clmreh those who ^^live in the eem- 
plete n^lect of religious ordinances " 1 
We go into no details, but every reader 
of tkis pamphlet ¥rill understand why 
we have asked these questionSy and will 
also see that they point to a line of 
arf^nunent followed by the writer which, 
from first to last, is vitiated and worth- 
ier Such an essay as this will do 
capital service for the liberationists, 
and they could not do better than 
circulate it 

Tbb Qibls of Fairtlkb. By Lettice 
Lee. Edinburgh : Oliphant, Ander- 
son, & Ferries. 1881. 

A CAPITAL story, wise in conception 
and vigorous in execution. One of the 
characters is mean, self-seeking, and 
deceptive, and finds her short-lived 
triumph to issue in disaster. Another is 
upright, heroic, and forgiving— Hving 
for others as well as for herself ; and her 
on^lfishness brings its own reward. A 
third character is rescued &om reckless- 
ness and revenge by hearing words of 
m<^rc7 ^^ the Gospel, and in various 
incidents the true law of Hfe is beauti- 
folly exemplified and enforced. 

Lizzie Sydenham and the Wrong 

TuBNiNG. By Mrs. J. M. Tandy. 

Edinburgh : Johnstone, Hunter, & 


The two families whose lives and 

fortunes are here depicted are typical — 

the one sober and godly, the other care- 

less, intempexate^ and self-destmctiTe, 
The experience of the former is an 
encooragement to train up our children 
for Chzistianity ; that of the latter 
shows the terrible results which foUow 
from the lack of such training. The 
love of dress and the love of drink are 
two deadly evils which cannot be too 
persistently opposed. This book will 
be useful, especially among young girls 
in domestic service. 

The Oboanization of oub Sabbath 
Schools. By Bev. David Miller, 
M.A., RD., East Parish, Brechin. 
Edinburgh : Wm. Blackwood & Sons. 
This *<Centenary Volume*' is worthy 
of permanent preservation. It gives 
an admirable elucidation of the prin- 
ciple on which Sunday-schools are 
founded ; traces their rise and progress; 
points out defects in their manage- 
ment, and suggests simple but effective 
remedies. We commend the work to 
the notice of superintendents and 
teachers, as containing some really 
valuable hints, which our space will 
not permit us to discuss. 

The Centenabt of Sunday Schools. 
A Sermon preached at Park Chapel, 
Brentford, on Sunday morning, July 
18th, 1880. By Rev. William A. 
Blake, in aid of the Funds of the 
Sunday School Union. London : 
Printed at 33, Broad Street, Qolden 
Square, W, 
An eloquent discourse, mainly historical, 
and thus worthy of being both read 
and preserved. The history supplies 
numerous lessons, all of which point to 
the duty of ascribing to Qod the gloxy 
of the work which the great Sunday- 
school institution has accomplished. 



or, PicliiMflr £Km& tike Gbepel of StL 
Jfolmw Bf J. M. ]|. Loadoft : KSkbet 
A (Tb., Bezaer Steveti 

YftB writer li/B0 taken some of tlie best 
kaown lacijieiitB in tke fonith Gtospel, 
:and flot^ht to ea^body tltem m appro- 
priate verse. In tofaxy cases he Uas 
'cldRe so with marked success, aiul here 
and there we come across Hnes of 
decided power and beautj. But the 
work, as a whole, will not take high 
rankin QV atligioas poeli^. 

From thx Reuqious Tragi Sogiett 
we have received the following ; — (I) 
Before the Dawn. A Tale of 
Wycliffe and Bohemia. By Emma 
Leslie. (2) Wives and their 
Husbands. By Mrs. George Glad- 
stone. (3) The Wipe's Secret, and 
OTHER Sketches. (4) Jenny's 
Corner. A Story of Home Life. 
{5) The Wise Man of Whittle- 
BURY. By Mrs. Prosser. (6) No 
Place Like Home. By Hesba 
Stretton. (7) Our Sister May ; or. 
Number One. (8) The Hive and 
its Wonders. New Edition. (9) 
Monica's Choice. A Story of 
Youthful FideHty. 

Miss Leslie is favourably known to 
many of our readers as the writer of a 
very graphic and powerful book, **Out 
of the Mouth of the Lion," a tale of the 
early Christians. In her latest work, 
" Before the Dawn," she depicts the 
fitiniggle which preceded the Reforma- 
tion, both on the continent and in 
England. WycKife and Huss are the 
principal actors in the period she so 
forcibly depicts, and of their work and 
infiaeaoe she gives a very accurate idea. 
She has clearly grasped the conditions 
under which the conflict was waged, 

and pwi t iB t ted . lot Ikdr true fight the 
fonnJdftMe obsteclm the ItiArmen had 
to Mniymnt, F)i0fc Is stnmger than 
fielioni^ and hbtory more wondoful 
th» rompnce. Miss Leslie has, in 
these ideal sketches, portrayed the 
rdig^OB and social conditions of this 
remn^ble era with the skill of an 
artist, and shown the power and 
grandeur of the prix^cipli^ which were 
then established. * Before tfte D&wn * 
is a noble and useful book. 

"Wives and their Husbands," ''The 
Wife's Secret^" and « Jenny's Omner" 
are all stories of home Ufb : the two 
former being directed mo|e specially 
to the duties of husbands and wives ; 
the iatter dealing with the development 
of character in children. The stories 
are pleasantly written, narrating such 
incidents af oceur every day, asd 
inculcating lessons of prioelesB woitL 
"Jenny's Comer "will be a fcvourile 
with our young folks, and will, ve 
hope, help to rub off some of their 
corners, when at least they aie the 
result of obstinacy and selfishness. 
Mrs. Prosser's "Wise man of Whittle- 
bury" illustrates, on the one hand, a 
too common form of sharp and 
clever worldliness which deems itwlf 
wise, but is in reality the greatest folly ; 
and, on the other, the power of the 
Gospel to win the hardest heart, 
especially when ChristianB exempUfy 
in their lives the love and lorbeazance 
of their Master. Of Hesba Stretton's 
stories it is superfluous to speak. " No 
Place Like Home " is one of her shortest, 
but also one of her best. " Our Sister 
May" is a singularly life-like story. 
May was a weak, selfish girl, who 
always took care of "Number One," 
but her parents happily took the right 
way of training her to love and care for 
others. «The Hive and its Wonders' 



isareyxKd editiiMiof a»Txiok wlifdk.1bBi 
luig' Ben pofjKilar witlk oar hofyn. It 
<Qafvjv a mam of TfthuAle i&lbnnation 
iu regird tb die Htfe tiire, the liabita^ 
and tie Talne of bem is a pieanaKt 
fomt, and teaehes us to see in tiie moit 
common facts types of higher thnigB. 
Science aitdK nligioxk aie here happiff 
blended. 'Monica's Choice* exposes 
the absurfiCies and supersCitione of 
Borne, and shows the social disintegra- 
tion "whiA wonM lesolt from mixed 
manii^ in oonseqnence of die stem 
and arbitrary power wfaicK the Papists 
exercise over tiieir devotees. Sttch a 
stoTy, based on facts, and told in no 
exaggerated langnage, is opportune. 

To^ MoTtpsa^B Sabbjltm Mosth: 

HyomA aftd'MecfitatioQs lor a Mother 

• dnrfti^ her Monti, of Conyafeeeence. 

LoiMhm : Jorrold ^ Bon^, 3^ Pater- 

•ftostir BodldiBga^ Price 6d. 

Miller Manning : or, a Story of 
Cormsh Life. By Matthew Forester. 
London : Bible Christian Book Room, 
26, Paternoster Bow ; Hamiltoni 
Adams, & Co. 
A REXARKABLY interesting story of the 
"BiUy Bray*' kind, but of higher 
literary merit. Miller Manning was 
onknowu to us, but we are glad to have 
made his acquaintance. He was a 
Comiidunan, and had the full measure 
of Cornish humour. He was a Methodist 
local preacher, with immenfle delight in 
the simple Gospel of Salvation, which 
he knew how to present to the audiences 
^hat could appreciate him in quaint, 
piquant, and telling ways. He revelled 
^ the brighter experiences and aspects 
of the Christian life, and himdreds of 
^ools were the holier and happier for 
l^is private and public influence. The 
'tory of his life is graphically told, and 
those who take it in hand will read on 
from page to page with constantly in- 
ct^aaing interest to the end. The author 
has also favoured us with some in- 
teresting specimens of Miller's religious 

Tntiik of thia little wmik sutteiexiiay 
expLmai ita putpoi^ whick in iMlf is a 
uaeM one, aad wbiob. htm bdes ymry 
skilfoEy cacrnd out, N«v»ly wida 
mo1ih«i» will do wtH to use the spiritual 
help hoca piovidsd Urn timm in a spirit 
of dasp and eamest deToatness. 

Life hobs AsuitiiAirai ; and other Ad- 
dresses. By Theodore Monod. Lon- 
don : Morgan & Scott, 12, Paternoster 
Buildings. Price Is. 6d. 

Tarn anrthor of these Addresses is 
widely known and highly appreciated 
by a Luge class of Christian readers. 
They are characterised by his usual 
spirituality of thought, devoutness of 
feeling, and simplicity of language. To 
many they will not be new, inasmuch 
as they have already appeared in the 
Christian . Their titles are — " Life more 
Abundant," "Thy Will be Done,*' 
** Committing and Keeping," " Spiritual 
Life," "The Sa\dour Satisfied," « From 
Services to Service," " Walk in Wisdom 
toward Them that are Without." Their 
main object is to lead the readier into a 
fuller and more experimental acquaint- 
ance with the Saviour, and they are 
well adapted to promote that end. 


Edinburgh : Oliphant, Anderson, & 
Ferrier. Price Id. each. 

The publishers of this series of stories 
have wished to provide interesting 
reading for boys and girls, which shall 
be free from the sensational element. 


The Death of L<>rd Beaconsfield. 

and wliich shall piesent trae views of 
life. Thej haye succeeded. The stories 
before us are well iinagined| well written^ 
well printed, and well illustrated ; and 
their moral tone is pure and healthj. 
Let them be well circulated. Their 
titles are: "The Sea-Boy's Grave," 
<<The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain," 
« Dennis the Young Cragsman," "How 
the Fight was Stopped," "Adam Ban- 
some's Nephy," " The Shabby Surtout," 
<< Little Henry and his Bearer," " Little 
Woodman and his Dog Gnsar," " The 
Lost Child," "Hany Bennett's Half- 
Crown," "A Lesson from the Sea," 
" The Wonderful Gold." 

Heavxn : its Hope, its Inliabitantis its 

Riches, its Happiness. The Gertsintj 

of God's Promise of a Life beyond the 

Grave, and the Rewards that are in 

Store for Faithful Service. By D. L 

Moody. London: Morgan & Scott 

Price Is. 6d« 

Mb. Moodt needs no xecommendation. 

His manifold labours, and the reeulti 

which, under God, accrue from them, 

are his " epistles, known and read of all 

men." We have here the large verbal 

familiarity with Scripture, the radneu 

of style, the profuseness and aptnesi of 

illustration, and the intense spiritoal 

earnestness which are always to be 

expected when he opens his lips to 

speak or takes his pen to write. 

^\t l^tid\ of |^0rir §iarmiisjReIb. 

This important event took place early in the morning of the 19th of ApriL We 
are unable in the present number of our Magazine to offer any observations on 
the remarkable career which has been brought to its close. Both space and time 
fail us. We intend, however, to address ourselves to this task without delay. 
It was not generally known that his Lordship had been suffering more or lees for 
several years from the malady which terminated his life — a malady which must 
have seriously disqualified a less energetic victim for the multifarious and exacting 
labours which he has had to undeigo. Those labours, however, were in eveiy 
respect congenial to his mind. He delighted in them. They were the welcome 
methods in which his peculiar ambition could be gratified ; and we may find in 
this fact the secret of his habitual buoyancy in the midst of more or less constant 
suffering — a buoyancy which enabled him to conceal his suffering bom all 
excepting those most intimately and confidentially associated with him. His last 
illness, which extended through several weeks, was one of great severity ; but, 
according to report, was borne with great fortitude. He was, unquestionably, one 
of the ablest men of his age ; but, even amidst the universal sjrmpathy and 
admiration evoked by his affliction and his death, we are still of opinion that his 
eminently superior powers were from first to last mournfully misdirected. 



JUNE, 1881. 

Jamis ^wcBtll ^]&iUipp0.* 

N this goodly volume Dr. Underhill has furnished one of the 
most compact and complete, and, at the same time, one of 
the most fascinating, biographies it has ever been our 
privilege to read. Mr. Phillippo's name and work have 
been as familiar to us from the now somewhat remote days 
of our boyhood as they could be, considering the distance of the island 
in which the main part of his life was spent, tegether with the fact 
diat we have had no official connection with the Mission of which he 
was so distinguished an agent. This general familiarity with the 
man, however, has only fitted us to appreciate the more highly the 
minuter details of his history which are now before us. Those details 
h\e been supplied with a fulness and a fidelity which leave nothing 
to be desired. In some respects Dr. Underhill would probably have 
found an easier task in the production of a much more bulky memoir 
-^ memoir comprising three or four volumes instead of one. He had 
in his possession ample materials for a work of such dimensions. In 
Ms Preface he says : — 
*' On his last visit to this countiyi Mr. PhiUippo brought with him one or two 

^'^The Life of James Muiaell Phillippoi Missionary in Jamaica." By 

£dwazd Bean Underhill^ LL.D., Honorary Secretary of the Baptist MissionaTj 

Society. London : Yates & Alexander, 21| Oastle Street, Holbom ; £. Marl- 

bonmgh & Co.. 51| Old Bailey. Price Six Shillings and Sixpeoce. 


242 James Mursell Phtllippo, 

Tolumes of manuscript, containing a portion of an autobiograplij the preparation 
of which had occupied his leisure moments for many years. He showed it to me, 
and asked my opinion as to its publication after his decease. On examining it, I 
found it to contain very full records of the events through which Jamaica, and 
the Jamaica Mission of the Baptist Missionary Society, had passed during his 
long life, combined with records of his own personal experience and history." 

Dr. Uuderhill recommended its publication, and consented to 
superintend its passage through the press. This comparatively easy 
task, however, was destined to merge into one of much greater magni- 
tude and labour. 

*' Two or three months after his decease, I received from his family a large box, 
containing a mass of papers and documents for which I was scarcely prepared. It 
consisted of two parts — a series of diaries kept during many of his later years, 
with almost daily entries of events as they transpired, and his own summary in a 
form more or less complete ; the whole accompanied with letters, papers, and 
extracts (both manuscript and printed) illustrative of the facts he had recorded. 
On examination, I soon found that it would be impracticable to publish large por- 
tions of the materials before me, if only from the number of the volumes tliat 
would be required to contain them. ... It, therefore, seemed to me that I 
should best serve his memory, and attain his object, by re- writing the whole, avail- 
ing myself as much as possible of his own words, condensing and abridging them 
where I could not, for want of space^ quote them vtrbaiim^^ 

None of our readers will be surprised to learn that Dr. Underhill 
lias executed this onerous task in a manner which must give perfect 
satisfaction to Mr. Fhillippo's many friends, whilst it presents to us a 
new portraiture of our noble Jamaica Mission quite as engaging as, 
and far more complete than, any which we have in the histories of its 
other heroes, even including those of Burchell and Knibb, who, in the 
prime of their life, were removed from their labours to their reward some 
six-and-thirty years ago, whereas Mr. Phillippo was spared for 
strenuous toil until he had more than completed his fourscore years, 
and did not pass to his rest until the May of 1879. He was bom 
on the 14th of October, 1798, at East Dereham, Norfolk, " the pattern 
of an English country town," of which the sanguinary Bishop Bonner 
was once rector — an office which it is a pity he did not hold till 
his death, for the sake of the restraints under which his ferocious 
higotry would thus hare been kept^-and where [sleep the remains of 
the beloved Cowper, of whose " grave " Mrs. Browning sang so 
tenderly. While yet a child, James was fond of acquiring knowledge, 
and had an njouwial capacity for letaining it He was a capital reciter, 
and had a fine imitative &calty which enabled him greatly to amnse 

James Murseli Phillip. 243 

his friends. When upwards of seven years of age we find him at 
the grammar-school at Seaming, two miles from Dereham. The 
rector of the parish was the head-master of the school — a High 
Churchman, a scholar, but a capricious tyrant withal. Mr. Phillippo 
said of him, " He was as much feared by the boys as the most tyrannical 
skve-master I have ever known was by his slaves." On leaving 
school, in his thirteenth year, he assisted his father in the business 
of building ajad iron-founding, but soon afterwards went to reside 
with his grandfather, Mr. Banyard, "a respectable tradesman and 
femier." Here, it appears, he went to some sad extremes of irre- 
Kgiousness, if not of gross immorality. He had been carefully trained 
in his home at Dereham, but now he had emerged from the whole- 
some restraints of his childhood, and depraved inclinations gained the 
mastery over him. Such a life did not contribute to his happiness. 
All his reward, he said, " consisted in disappointment, disquietude,, 
and remorse." Happily, by God's blessing, he was reclaimed, partly 
by some sermons which he heard from an Independent minister, and 
partly by solemn reflections occasioned by some remarkable escapes, 
from death. His conversion, however, was not completed without a 
struggle. He went to the Baptist chapel, and " the preacher's words 
smote him to the heart." The inward strife went on for some weeks 
longer, until at last a friend led him to the throne of grace, where, as 
he says, '' with all my sins about me, and with an earnestness and 
fluency I can never forget, I supplicated mercy through the blood ol 
Christ as the greatest boon that Heaven could bestow." Prayer wa« 
soon turned to praise, and from that day James Phillippo became a 
faithful servant of the Saviour. After the lapse of a year he was 
baptized at Dereham. He was now engaged in the earnest study of 
the Word of God, and in the general culture of his mind. He^ 
became a preacher in the adjacent villages with marked spiritual 
naefulness, cherishing thoughts of a missionary life, and giving his 
leisure * to such handicrafts as he thought would be useful in a mis- 
sionary's career." After an interview with Joseph Kinghorn, in the 
December of 1818 he formally offered himself to the Baptist Mis- 
sionaiy Society, the resources of which, however, were at the time so 
limited that the acceptance dl the offer had to be postponed until 
the November of the following year, when he and Mr. Burchell 
were admitted together. His next move was to Chipping Norton, 

where be had the tuition of the £ev, W. Gray, and where he 


244 yames Mursell Philltppo. 

*' girded himself for his task " under the motto : '' Energy, Prudence, 
Economy, Temperance, Perseverance, with ardent love to God and 
man/' Writing of his Chipping Norton life in his diary on Apiil 
19th, 1820, he sdys :— 

'* Our hands are always fulL Religion, I may say, flounslies in this town and 
in the villages around. Eyeij place in which Divine service ia held is filled. 
Nothing can be more encouraging than the attendance. One of our number, Mr. 
Muzsell, is one of the most poweiM preachers I have ever heaxd. His addresses 
are so adapted to the understandings of the poorer people as to produce a powerful 
effect on them. He bids fidr to be a very superior and popular man. These 
labours among cottagers are doubtless a very excellent preparation for ministerial 
work, at home and abroad, especially the latter, and make me long to spend my 
-days in some heathen land.** 

This reference to the early student days of the Bev. J. P. Mursell 
has a pathetic interest now that he who wrote it has gone to heaven 
after a brilliant missionary life abroad ; whilst he of whom it was 
written, after an equally brilliant ministerial and public life at home, 
is waiting in retirement here below for the same blessed change. 
' Theirs was a friendship which the vicissitudes of time did not impair, 
and which death will only consummate. 

After about a year and a-quarter, Mr. Phillippo removed from 
<]!hipping Norton to Horton " Academy," Bradford, under the presi- 
^lency of Dr. Steadman, where he studied hard, labouring at the same 
time with great zeal as a preacher in the surrounding villages. On 
the 23rd of September, 1823, he was solemnly designated for nussion 
work in Jamaica at Westgate Chapel, Dr. Steadman and Messrs. 
Godwin, Acworth, and Mann taking the more prominent parts of the 

Having married Miss Hannah Selina Cecil — a lady who enjoyed 
and reciprocated his warmest love, and who shared his zeal and 
lightened his cares as a missionary for more than fifty years — Mr. 
Phillippo and his wife sailed from Gravesend on the 29^ of October, 
1823. A gale " detained them for days, tossing about in the Downs/' 
on the subsidence of which the vessel (the Ocean) trimmed her sails 
and made good progress. Mr. PhiUippo's imagination revelled in the 
grandeurs of the sea and sky. Of one night, when away south, he 
writes :-7- 

** Jnpiter and Saturn appeared nearly torching each otheri shining with a steady 
lustre in the north-east In the lenith and in the north the fixed stais were 

James Mursell PhtUippo. 245 

sown 80 thickly that they seemed to twinkle all at once, and the galaxy gleamed 
beyond them as, it weie the twilight of eternity. It was a spectacle of wonder 
and beauty, whose silence spoke to the soul in language that may be felt but not 
uttered. I forgot everything entirely for the time. The hope of immortality 
carried adoring thoughts to the footstool of the throne of Him that liveth for 
ever and ever." 

The blue mountains of Jamaica were sighted on the 18th of 
December, Port Morant was reached on the 19th, and on the 20th 
they went by boat to Kingston, where they remained till after 
Christmas, when they proceeded to Spanish Town, the place of 
their future residence. Three years and a-half previously, the 
mission-house had been burnt down by an incendiary, and the pre- 
mises with which the new missionaries had to content themselves 
were inconvenient and uncomfortable in the extreme. No sooner 
did they address themselves to their work than they found for- 
midable difficulties in their way. The planters had all along been 
relentlessly averse to the preaching of the Gospel to the slaves, 
and every available effort was made to put a stop to it. Their 
exasperation had been increased by the action of the House of 
Commons on the subject of slavery at the instance of Mr. Buxton 
and Mr. Canning. The Baptist missionaries were specially hated 
on the supposition of their being in league with the Anti-Slavery 
Society, and were "treated with all the indignity and virulence 
which prejudice and mortified tyranny could dictate." Mr. Phillip*po 
went to the Quarter Sessions with his credentials from the Society, 
and sought permission to preach. The licence was refused on the 
ground that the signatures on the paper were not accompanied 
with the seals of the signatories ! After some months the requisite 
certificate arrived from England, and Mr. Fhillippo was permitted 
to preach till the next sessions, when he was again silenced on the 
pretext that his certificate was without the signature and seal of 
the Lord Mayor of London ! Moreover, he was arrested for not 
having enrolled himself in the militia, and, in spite of his plea 
that he was a minister of the Grospel, he was enrolled against his 
will. His own and his wife's health gave way, and their hearts 
were smitten by the death of their first-bom child. But they held 
bravely on. Preparations were made for future work ; a Sabbath- 
school and a Bible-class were formed ; some preaching was ventured 
upon in neighbouring places ; and at last, on the arrival of his ere- 

246 James Mursell PhtlUppo. 

dentials, attested by Lord Mayor Waithman, to his own joy 
and that of his people he received the licence which could he with- 
held no longer. His first great want now was that of an adequate 
chapel, and this is how he pleads with the Secretary of the Society 
for help from home :— 

" I conscientiously declare that I never ascend the pulpit but at the risk of my 
life. I am in a tropical climate, a small place of worship, the pulpit only two 
feet from the floor, and my head nearly touching the ceiling, a congr^tion 
hteially packed together, some standing on the pulpit stain even to the top ; the 
rays of the sun piercing through the shattered roof, not a breath of air stiniiigi 
every avenue to its admission stopped up by the crowds — all this, from which 
you must be convinced that the heat must be almost insupportable, and the dis- 
advantages in other respects incalculable. I assure you I feel it to be so. On 
going into my chamber, after having exerted myself to make all the people hear, 
I have felt myself so enfeebled by excessive perspiration that I have been hardly 
able to stand. Far two or three days afterwards I have felt the effects. 1 am 
sure if the Committee knew all the circumstances they would never let it be said 
that the cause at Spanish Town droops, and that Mr. Phillippo is dead, for the 
sake of a few hundred pounds." 

Spanish Town gentlemen contributed to the btdlding fund, some of 
them Mr. Phillippo's '* former opponents ; " help came from England, 
and, in the November of 1825, the memorial-stone of a commodious 
chapel was laid. He established also at this time two schools — one for 
the education of children in the higher branches of elementary know- 
ledge; the other, on the Lancasterian system, ^'for the gratuitous 
instruction of the poorer classes, slave and free" — ^the profits of the 
former being used to defray the expenses of the latter. The Gospel 
was introduced into Passage Fort and Old Harbour, coast villages, six 
miles from Spanish Town, in each of which places Mr. Phillippo's 
ministry was eminently successful. Conversions, both in Spanish 
Town and in the stations, were very numerous, and baptisms on a 
large scale very frequent. The new chapel, capable of accommoda- 
ting some 1,500 persons, was opened most auspiciously on February 
18th, 1827, and the prospects of the Mission were most encouraging. 
A slave-holding enemy wrote in the St Jago Gazette : — 

" In coming through Spanish Town, a few days ago, I viewed with surprise the 
magnificent Anabaptist chapel which has arisen like an exhalation in a community 
of very limited extent and very diminished resources. And my astonishment has 
been increased by hearing that a building is about to be erected for a Methodist 
chapel on a similar scale of magnificence, whilst the cathedral of the bishop 

yames Mursell Phillippo. 247 

looks like an old barn, without accommodation for the inhabitants, and not only 
without ornament or decoration^ but without a decent exterior.'^ 

A new difficulty, however, was at hand. An Act had recently been 
passed in the House of Assembly which made it unlawfdl for " any 
Dissenting minister, religious teacher, or other person whatsoever, to 
demand or receive any money or chattel whatsoever from any slave 
or slaves within this island for affording such slave or slaves religious 
mstruction." OfiTenders were, on conviction, to be subjected to a 
penalty of twenty pounds for each offence, " one moiety thereof to be 
paid to the informer, who is hereby declared a competent witness, and 
the other moiety to the poor of the parish ; " and, in default of pay- 
ment, such offenders were to be committed to the common gaol for 
any space of time not exceeding one calendar month. To the con- 
sternation of the tyrants, the Act was disallowed by the Home 
Government, and the House of Assembly was ofi&ciaUy informed that 
the Toleration Act was in force in Jamaica in common with all other 
parts of his Majestjr's dominions. A furious storm was the conse- 
quence. " The House was beside itself with anger." Dr. Underbill 
epitomises the return despatch thus : — 

"Tokmtion on religious subjects was utterly at variance with the institutionB 
of Jamaica. The preaching and teaching of slaves had been attended with the 
most pernicious consequences. . . . The Negro must not be left to be the prey of 
'the oily and delusive tongue of a self-ordained preacher.* Unhallowed men 
' are known to cajole slaves out of their substance,' and even threaten their simple 
SoUoiran with 'hell fire and eternal damnation if they are alow and scanty in 
their contributions.' Owners of slaves will never allow a spy to enter their 
&milies under the guise of a protector of the slaves, nor will they allow any 
public supervision of the punishments it may be necessary to inflict upon them. 
The use of the whip in the field cannot be abandoned, nor, * until Negro women 
have acquired more of the sense of shame that distinguishes European females/ 
vill it be possible to ' lay aside punishment by flogging.' Masters must continue 
to retain unchecked the power of imprisoning their slaves, and of anthoiiaiBg the 
gaoler to inflict punishment without triaL'' 

The ''sectarian preachers" were summoned by the House of 
Assembly from all parts of the island to appear before a committee, 
and ''the questions put were of the most inquisitorial nature." 
The Slave Law was re-enacted without material change. Never- 
theless, Mr. Phillippo persevered in his work, which branched 
out from Spanish Town in various directions, and often inflicted 
upon himself and his household the severest self-denial in order that 

248 Janui Murselt Philhppo. 

he might have the more to contribute to the needs of the Mission. 
Opposition of the most vexatious kind from the planters did not 
restrain him ; neither did it hinder his success. His communications 
at this period to friends at home are full of joy and hopefulness. 

Strenuous toil and heavy anxieties^ however, told upon his health, 
and a trip to the United States was decided on. The voyage com- 
prised many extraordinary incidents :— 

^ Two of the sailora were concealed pirates, and nearly succeeded in caziying 
the vessel to the Isle of Pines, the well-known rendezvous of sea brigands. The 
captain, being possessed of Uttle nautical knowledge, blunderingly sailed into the 
6ulf of Mexico instead of the Gulf of Florida. The reckoning was lost, and they 
lay becalmed for ten days, exhausting their provisions, and exposed to the fieice 
rays of a tropical sun." 

Putting in to Havana, the Cuban authorities treated them as spies, 
where they were " arrested as strangers who had violated the law by 
traversing the city without a passport," but were ultimately allowed 
to return to their vessel. On application from the captain of a Portu- 
guese brig in the harbour, Mr. Phillippo went " aboard his ship to 
console his fever-stricken crew." Then there was another arrest, and 
another visit to the guardship and to the officer of the port. The 
vessel sailed afresh, '' only to encounter a tremendous hurricane, 
which lasted for two or three days and nights. The captain and 
mate were incapable, and, until lights from the shore were discovered, 
Mr. Phillippo, at the request of his companions, assumed chaige of 
the navigation of the ship." On the fiftieth day they arrived at Staten 
Island, and Mr. Phillippo visited many of the chief cities of the States, 
in all of which he was "received with much Christian kindness." 
This vacation restored his health, and he reached his home, after an 
absence of two months, to find his family well, and to baptize 129^ 
persons. By the commencement of 1831, however, his health had 
again failed, and we find him writing : 

" The opening year already begins to proclaim the realities of which it is the 
exponent What a mercy it is that we do not hear the whole of its uttennces, 
either of joy or sorrow, at once, or it might have many things to say which we 
could not bear. While time is passing may my future opportunities of doing good 
be more improved than in the past, remembering that 

' Time destroyed 
Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt''*' 

Increasing indisposition made it necessary for him to return to 

yames Mursell Philltppo. 249 

England, and, with his wife and two children, he sailed on^the 7th of 
August, " committing his stations to the care of the Eev. John Clarke.** 
His youngest child was ill, and in three or four days after leaving 
Xingston she died, " and her precious remains were committed to the 
* hoary deep/ " Though invigorated by the voyage, it was still neces- 
sary for him, after landing at Falmouth, almost entirely to abstain 
from public labour. Early in the following year the great Negro 
insurrection broke out. Knibb and half-a-dozen other Baptist mis- 
sionaries, with two missionaries of the Wesleyan Connexion, were 
arrested and imprisoned on suspicion of complicity with the outbreak. 
An agitation was started for driving all ** sectarians " from the island. 
The insurrection was soon quelled, but not without a sad loss of life. 
It seems to have originated in an idea amongst the Negroes that 
" their freedom had been declared by the British Parliament, and 
that it was unrighteously withheld from them." The time had now 
come for an appeal to public opinion in England, and we know the 
issue. Mr. Phillippo contributed to it — not, indeed, so much by his 
voice as did Knibb, for he was still an invalid — but by his pen and 
by all the other means in his power. By-and-by he had sufficiently 
recovered to be able to take his place in the pulpit and on the plat- 
form, and to do efficient work in the cause of freedom and of missions. 
In the beginning of 1834 he returned to Jamaica, and on arriving 
found the church at Spanish Town in the enjoyment of prosperity. 
The "apprenticeship" measure — an instalment of Negro freedom — 
was to come into operation on the 1st of August. Under the con- 
viction that '* it would lose much of its value if the slave remained 
in the degrading state of ignorance to which slavery had doomed 
him," Mr. Phillippo devised large plans of education with a view to 
prepare for the change. 

The apprenticeship proved, as many suspected it would prove, and 
Mr. Phillippo among them, only an exchange of one mode of tyranny 
for another. He wrote to a friend in London : 

^ The whip, it is feared, has only changed hands, and what matters it to the 
^ifferer by whom that mstniment is wielded 1 * The Negroes will not work,' say 
their masters. ' Massa give me no lowance ' (allowance), says the apprentice. * He 
no give me Friday — no make leave off fonr o'clock good ' (viz., at the proper time) ; 
' make me work when me no able— old man, old woman, and piccaninny, all work.' 
Under such circumstances, can tranqnillity and peace be expected ? May Qod 
avert another insurrection 1 " 


250 Jumes Mursell Phillipfo. 

A Bill was passed in the House of Assembly authorising corporal 
punishment for minor offences^ and many of the stipendiary magistrates 
proved to be more duel and ignorant than the planters themselves." 
During two short years," says Mr. Phillippo, " 60,000 apprentices 
received, in the aggregate, one quarter kA a million of lashes, and 
50,000 other punishments by the tread-wheel, the chain-gang, and 
other modes of legalised torture." Dr. UnderhUl supplies elaborate 
details of the working of the system and of the opposition it 
encountered. It came to a close with the end of July, 1838, and on 
the 1st of August the emancipation of the slaves was complete. 

In 1842 the Baptist churches in Jamaica unanimously agreed to 
*' make no further drafts on the parent Society " — in other words, to 
assume a position of pecuniary independence. Mr. Phillippo gave 
his assent to this resolution only on the condition of loans being 
granted by the Committee. He thought that the drafts should be 
gradually diminished prior to their being entirely relinquished. It 
seems, moreover, that he was not without the fear that the change 
would be followed by the formation of '' an association of ministeis 
and churches assimilated to a Presbyterian synod, and thus to con- 
centrate in a few of the brethren the power of an executive body, 
destroying the individuality of the churches and the independence of 
their action, as also that of their pastors." Movements had already been 
made in this direction, which had been suitably restrained by the 
action of the Committee at home. He had heard, with some anxiety, 
that this restraint had been recently relaxed, and he wrote to Ml 
Dyer, saying : " If anything like a Presbytery is countenanced, our 
bond of union is dissolved, and the citadel will be desolated by foes 
within." In 1842 ill-health required him again to come to England, 
where he was obliged for the most part to remain silent, but where he 
oocupied himself with the preparation of a large and important 
volume, entitled, " Jamaica : its Past and Present State," which was 
highly commended, and which had an extensive and rapid sale. On his 
way back he visited the Windward Islands with a view to ascertain 
"what prospects they held out for evangelistic eflTort," and reached his 
Tiome on the 1st of April, 1844, only to find terrible troubles awaiting 
him. Very soon Mr. Dowsan, one of the two assistants in whose 
charge he had left his church, started for England '' on a matter of 
private business," and,* on his rotom, claimed the pastorship and 
demanded possession of the chapeL Having succeeded in forming a 

James Mursell Phillippo. 251 

party, 4 meetiog was held in a booth, at which Mr. Phillippo was 
deposed and Mr« Dowson elected in Iiis stead. Disputes and litigations 
of a very costly and painful character were the consequence, and they 
lasted for nearly seven years. What Mr. Phillippo termed "the wicked 
and powerful conspiracy against the cause of truth and lighteous- 
ness " was defeated on evidence by the decirion of the Vice-Chancellor. 
The Home Committee collected funds for the repair of the mission 
premises^ whilst the cost of the suit were, for the most part, met by 
the generosity of his friend, Mr. Joseph Fletcher. 

Veiy much of the remainder of Mr. Phillippo's long life passed in 
ordinary channels. The cholera had ravaged the island in 1850, and 
had swept away 2,500 persons in Spanish Town alone. Mr. Phillippo 
was oouiQgeous and indefatigable in his attendance upon the sick £uid 
dying. By the Divine blessing, the cause of Christ steadily prospered 
in his hands. He was held in high respect by the authorities of the 
town and district, and was often consulted in the management of 
public affiura In 1856-57 he again visited the United States and 
Enghmd in search of health ; and, whilst here, ably vindicated the 
Jamaica Mission and the emancipated peasantry &om various charges 
which had been unscrupulously levelled against them. A few years 
afterwards came on the great religious re\T.val, of which he says that 
"it was like a tempest passing over, and with one blast purifying the 
atmosphere, and calling into new life a thousand beauties over the 
Christian landscape." We have not forgotten the Morant Bay out- 
break and massacre of 1866 ; but, perhaps, it is not so well known 
that Mr. Phillippo, by his tact and energy, succeeded in preventing a 
similar tragedy at Hartland, only a few miles from Spanish Town, 
the intensely interesting history of which Dr. Underbill has recorded 
from Mr. Phillippo's own graphic pen. The years passed on, and by- 
and-by we have to trace the course of " the aged pastor," and to 
observe his steady ripening for glory. In 1872 he sought retirements 
but, on urgent request, retained the nominal pastorate till the com- 
pletion of the fiftieth year of his ministry, at the dose of 1873. His 
jubilee was fitly celebrated, although he was in broken health, 
occasioned by a ifall from his horse. In the following year his wife, 
who had lovingly accompanied him " through the fiery trials of this 
wodd," was suddeidy taken &om him ; but he still maintained his 
interest in the work at Spanish Town and the affiliated stations, until 
he could leave it in the hands of his successor, the Kev. C. B. Beny, 

252 Dean Stanley^ s Christian Instituiions. 

who had gone from Cullingworth^ Yorkshire, to Jamaica for the pur- 
pose. On May llth, 1879, the noble life of the great missionary 
peacefully closed. 

We have thus crowded into a few pages, and with as much brevity 
as we could command, the leading facts of a histoiy which Dr. 
Underbill has elaborately and graphically portrayed, and for which the 
Christian Church in general, and the Baptist denomination ui 
particular, may well be devoutly grateful to God. Mr. Phillippo was 
no ordinary man, either as to the powers of his mind or as to the 
excellences of his character. He occupied a large and important 
sphere, which called into requisition faculties and virtues of a veiy 
high order; and in that sphere he shone with a brilliance almost 
unique for fifty years. We rejoice that the task of chronicling 
his life fell into hands so competent, and congratulate Dr. Underhill 
on the results of his toil. We need not bespeak for this beautiful, 
but wonderfully cheap, volume a large circulation. It is certain to 
be popular, and we pray that its perusal may give, as it is, without 
doubt, eminently fitted to give, a new impetus to the great cause 
of Christian missions, not only in the West, but also in the East, and 
in all parts of the world. 

^tm Stanleg's C&rwtimi ^nMvXitmn: 

EAN STANLEY'S latest volume is more akin to his 
"Essays on Church and State" than to the various 
historical works by which he is most widely and favour- 
ably known. It is a series of studies on the more pro- 
minent institutions of the Christian Church, and is, we 
presume, intended both to define and vindicate the attitude of the 
Broad Church party in regard to them. Many of these institutions 
are ecclesiastical rather than Christian. They have secured for them- 
selves a strong, if not a permanent, footing in large and powerful 

*<<ChiiBtiAn Institutions: Essays on Ecclesiastical Subjects.'' By Arthnr 
Penrhyn Stanley, D.D., Dean of Westminster. London : Murray. 

Dean Stanleys Christian Institutions. 253 

sections of the Church. They are maintamed as integral parts of the 
Christian religion bj men of undoubted genius and piety, and are 
supposed to constitute the main sources of its power. The fiercest 
controversies have raged around these institutions, because they — 
more than any Biblical doctrine or ethical principle — ^are alleged to 
famiflh us with the essential " notes of the Chufch " and the test of 
a valid Christian life. And yet they can plead in their favour the 
expUcit sanction neither of Christ nor His apostles. He did not 
Himself establish them, nor were they known to the men whom He 
sent forth as His first and authoritative witnesses. They can only be 
honestly defended as necessary outgrowths or developments, as the 
inevitable creation of new conditions and needs, legitimate adapta- 
tions to circumstances which coidd not exist, and for which, therefore, 
no direct provision could be made, in the Apostolic age. This line of 
defence is not, perhaps, in itself unreasonable, though many of us 
regard the institutions which require it as perversions, rather than 
developments, of the Christian faith — ^the indications of a retrograde, 
and not of a progressive, movement. 

The revival of mediaeval Christianity, inaugurated by the Tractarians 
at Oxford half-a*century ago, has produced results which few could 
have anticipated. The theology of the Beformation has been con- 
temptuously discarded by clergymen of the Protestant Episcopal 
Church. The ecclesiastical system of Bome, which our forefathers so 
sternly repudiated, has been eagerly welcomed as the one means of 
saving us from the perils of infidelity and the desolating power 
of Conomunism. The doctrines and practices of Boman Catholicism 
—on every point except, perhaps, the supremacy of the Pope — have 
been openly proclaimed and passionately defended within the precincts 
of the Established Church ; and the work of Bome is being done, 
and done too efficiently, by men whose viery position naturally 
pledges them to oppose it. The Bitualistic party in the English 
Church has recently met with severe legal defeats, but we are greatly 
mistaken if we imagine that its leaders will thereby be silenced or 
their influence destroyed. Certain forms of ecclesiastical millinery 
may have to be cast aside, and certain theatrical displays be for- 
bidden, but the Bomish doctrines may still be preached, and all that 
is most characteristic of its scheme of salvation be persistently main- 
tained. Sacerdotalism is not yet destroyed in the Episcopal Church, 
Sacramentarianism still survives, the superstition of the Beal Presence 

254 Dean Stanleys Christian Invitations. 

lias not received its death-blow, and auricular confession is still 
practised Our struggle with Anglican Eitualism is far from ended. 

The conflict is one in which Dean Stanley has for many years taken 
a prominent part. The school to which he belongs is at the opposite 
extreme to the Ritualistic ; and, if the influence of the latter should 
ever gain the ascendancy, the Broad Church would speedily find its 
occupation gone. It is, perhaps, impossible for devotees of the modem 
theology to oppose the dogmas of Bomanism with the thoroughness 
and fervour of the Evangelicals, but they can never look upon them 
with favour, or cease to regard them as detrimental to the social and 
religious progress of mankind. Dean Stanley has rendered us good 
and loyal service. He has, in accordance with the prominent bent of 
his mind, pointed out a soul of good in things evil ; and, thou^ the 
advocates of those things evil (as we regard them) will set little store 
on the soul of good as it is here preserved, we, at any rate, should have 
the wisdom, while rejecting the evil, to cleave firmly to the good. 

The essays of this volume are thoroughly characteristic of their 
author, abounding in vivid historical portraiture, brilliant re-setting 
of famfliar facts, and powerful reproductions of the forms of ancient 
life. We see on every page the fruits of patient and persistent 
industry, a willingness to investigate the most trivial points, and to 
penetrate to the most recondite and obscure sources of information. 
This fulness of knowledge is always allied with a large-hearted 
charity. Dean Stanley's methods are far from perfect, but he is surely 
one of the most genial of controversialists. He is, in our view, £Bur 
greater as an artist than as a philosopher. No one can paint more 
beautifully or group more skilfully. His pictures are never too 
highly coloured. Their brilliance is subdued and chastened ; every line 
is exquisitely finished. But admirable as are Dean Stanley's descriptive 
powers, we do not regard him as equally successful in his endeavour 
to investigate the causes of the phenomena which he so graphically 
portrays, nor does he always lay hold of the principles which xmdeilie 
the movements whose external features he invests with the force and 
freshness of Ufe. His view is also more limited than he imt^es. 
Its very intensity interferes with its breadth, and, while he is eager to 
look all rounds he is too apt to look simply for that which he wishes 
to find. The soul of good, which so delights Dean Stanley in heretical 
doctrines and superstitious rituals, is, if we may ao express it, some 
reflection of his own creed, an echo of his own voice. There aie 

Dean Stanleys Chrtsitan Insittuttons, 255 

certain mcHul and spiritual principles of whose transcendent import- 
ance lie is fully convinced. Proofs of their presence he can find 
eveijn^here — ^in the elaborate ceremoniaUams and ritualistic excesses 
of Eome, in the rigid adherence of the Baptists to the acknowledged 
command of Christ, in the mysticism of the Quakers, in the paintings 
and inscriptions of the Catacombs. It is doubtless a good thing to 
bring into prominence the traces of our spiritual kinship. The fault 
we have to find with Dean Stanley is that he is apparently content 
vith these points of agreement^ and is prone to dismiss whatever he 
has not himself previously received. He does not give sufficient 
weight to the points on which others differ from him, or test them by 
a rigorous and independent process. We have not the slightest doubt 
that the early Eoman Christians held all the articles which he names, 
but they held a great many more, as the paintings in the Catacombs 
manifiestly imply — articles "which are defended by modem theologians 
and attacked by modem sceptics," and without which, as it seems to 
lis, even the ethical principles of the Gospel would lose their coherence 
and their power. Valuable as Dean Stanley's researches are, their 
worth would be increased if his aim were less limited, and he were 
to allow the existence of a good which he may not hitherto have 
discerned, and which may possibly not harmonise with every article 
of his creed. 

There are many respects in which we heartily S3rmpathise with 
Dean Stanley and gratefully appreciate his work, lliere is, for 
instance, no subject on which more mischievous exaggerations have 
prevailed, and more uimiitigated nonsense has been spoken, than the 
authority of Cotmcils. The Council of Constantinople formulated a 
creed which has been adopted by the Roman, the Anglican, and the 
Lutheran Churches, and to the bulk of which our readers would 
heartUy assent ; not, however, because the Council promulgated it, 
but becan»ef'f4t is, to a large extent, the reiteration of the plain 
dogmatic affirmations of the New Testament. Let any one who 
believes in the authority of these assemblies read Dean Stanley's 
bold and accurate portraiture of the Councils of Constantinople 
and Ephesus, of the miserable strife and enmity which preceded 
them, the ambition of rival ecclesiastics, the violence of the 
mob; the factions flying at eath otjier^s throats; the yell of 
the assembled episcopate, ''the bishops showing dieir tusks" — 
to quote Gregory's forcible phrase — ^" as if they had been wild boars.'* 

256 Dean Stanuys Chrtsiian Insiiiulions, 

When a canonised saint can speak of the members ot a Council as 
''actors on a gigantic scale," as men who-*' grin through borrowed 
masks/' " chameleons that change their colour with every stone over 
which they pass/' " time-servers waiting, not on God, but on the rise 
and flow of the tides, or the straw in the wind/' as " angry lions to 
the small, fawning spaniels to the great/' we may well be excused if 
we withhold from it and its decisions the unquestioning reverence 
shown by Bomanists and Anglicans. The dark side of the Council 
of Ephesus^ which Dean Stanley has brought into strong reUef, 
is folly admitted by a writer so anti-Protestant in his position as 
Cardinal Newman, and to overlook it is impossible. Those who should 
have been '' the shepherds of their people/' were in reality " the anta 
gonistic hosts in a battle." 

So again, with respect to the Episcopalian system of church 
government, the essayist is too careful and candid a scholar to contend 
that it is a simple reproduction or continuation of the Apostolic 
system. Episcopacy, in the modem sense of the word, was for long 
unknown. The terms bishop and presbyter were convertible. 
Only by degrees was one presbyter elevated above his brethren, and 
it was not till the middle of the second century that the chief 
presbyter of a district was specifically denominated bishop. "^ It is 
certain that in no instance before the beginning of the third century 
the title or function of the Pagan or Jewish priesthood is applied to 
the Christian pastors/' So far as the argument from Scripture is 
concerned. Dean Stanley cedes all that the most enthusiastic Congre- 
gationaUst can desire. He strikes many a vigorous and well-aimed 
blow at ecclesiastical pretensions of all sorts, and renders it impossible 
for bishops, priests, sacramentarians, and confessors to claim 
for themselves the position and functions of successors of the 

If he had insisted on that which did exist in the primitive ages of 
the Church with a force equal to that with which he has set aside 
that wliich did not exist, his essays would have possessed a value 
which they now lack. On the subject of baptism, for instance, his 
position is weak and illogical. In representing the teaching of the 
New Testament as to the nature, the form, the recipients, and the 
symbolic meaning of this ordinance, he speaks with a clearness and 
emphasis which must be as perplexing and distasteful to Evangelical 
Pffidobaptists as they are gratifying to ourselves. The rite, as now 

Dean Stanley's Chrislia?i Institutions. 257 

generally observed, has, as he allows, been " altered even in the most 
material points." With a few exceptions, 

" the whole of the Western Churches have now substituted for the ancient bath 
the ceremony of letting fall a few drops of water on the face. ... It is a striking 
I'xample of the triumph of common-sense and convenience over the bondage of 
form and custom. Perhaps no greater change has ever taken place in the out- 
ward form of Christian ceremony with such general agreement. . • • The change 
trjm immersion to sprinkling has set aside the most of the Apostolic expressions 
itp'aPiling baptism, and has altered the very meaning of the word. ... It shows 
how the spirit which lives and moves in human society can override even the 
mo3t sacred ordinances." 

The peculiarity of these remarks arises from the fact that they are 

written by an advocate of infant sprinkling and a dignitary of the 

Christian Church. The greatness of the change from immersion to 

sprinkling we fully admit. That it has inflicted on the Christian.^ 

Church no serious loss we utteriy deny. It does not seem to us "a. 

triumph of common-sense " to set aside the Apostolic expressions ^rUi 

respect to a rite for which the apostles, as instructed by their lord 

and ours, are our supreme authority, and to alter the very meaning 

of a word of command. An institution with respect to which such 

things can be affirmed, is scarcely a Christian institution, nor can we 

consistently apply to it a term which describes something essentially 

<lifferent The disciples have surely no right to "override" an* 

ordmance established by their Master. 

Dean Stanley admits that the baptism of infants was the product of 

a superstitious belief in baptismal regeneration, but he defends it on 

the ground that, if " our Divine Master did not think them unfit to 

be taken into His arms and receive His own gracious blessing when 

He was actually on earth, we need not fear to ask His blessing upom 

them now." But should not this reverence for the example of our- 

Divine Master deter us from performing in His name a rite which He- 

certainly did not institute ? Tlie New Testament baptism is never, in 

any single instance, " the dedication " of one person by another, neithei: 

IS It " the asking of a blessing " upon another. Does our adherence to • 

Christ's own words and example imply a refusal to ask a blessing upon.- 

our children, or withhold from them anything that the purest love and* 

the most fervent Christian principle can wish to impart ? Infant 

Ijaptism, we are further told, is a recognition of the good which there 

is in every human soul. But if it be so, it cannot claim to fulfil the 


25B Dean Stanley's Christian Institutions, 

design of the rite instituted by Christ ? Tlie very meaning of the 
word is indeed altered, and the Apostolic expression set aside 1 
Baptism, according to the New Testament, is a recognition of the evil 
which is in us rather than of the good. It tells us of the need of 
forgiveness, of repentance, of cleansing, of renewal, and shows us that 
we can only meet this need as we are made one with Christ. We are 
baptized into Him, into His death. Wo put on Christ. We rise with 
Him unto newness of life. The elements of good in every human 
heart we cheerfully allow. To deny them would be to invalidate the 
whole idea of the Gospel, and to affirm the impossibility of our 
redemption. But the design of baptism is to show that, apart from 
Christ, the evil predominates over the good, that all men miist be bom 
again, and that we can enter God's Kingdom only as wb, who are dead 
in sins, are quickened together with Christ. We do not need infant 
baptism to enable us to recognise all for which the Dean contends. 
It in no way aids or strengthens such recognition, nor is it a pledge of 
perpetual spiritual progress. On the other hand, it obscures and 
destroys the symbolism of the rite established by our Lord, is apt to 
degenerate into a charm, and to favour the very sacramentarianism 
against which the Dean so strenuously fights. Dean Stanley well 
knows that, momentous as are the changes which have occurzed in 
relation to baptism, liis own Church still applies to it those Apostolic 
oxpressions which he assures us have been completely set aside, 
^len naturally affirm of those who have been baptized that which 
Ihe Scripture affirms of them; and, if the pre-requisite conditions 
of repentance and faith be ignored, and if we are logically consistent, 
we shall inevitably be landed in the theory of baptismal r^eneration» 
Taith in Jesus Christ becomes nothing ; baptism everything. Dr. Angos 
has wisely said, "So long as infant baptism is practiBed by Evan- 
gelical Christians, men will continue to oscillate between the un- 
scriptural faith that makes nothing of the ordinance and the 
unscriptural faith that makes it everything: the (me dishonouring 
baptism, the other dishonouring the Gospel. Give baptism its 
Scriptural mode, and especially its Scriptural subjects, and we 
honour the ordinance and honour no less the spiritual truths it is 
intended to represent." 

With respect to the EuchariBt, Dean Stanley's position is veiy 
similar and equally unsatisfactory. He has proved, in a singularly 
•conclusive manner, that the aposties and early Christians could 

Dean Stanley's Christian Institutions. z 59 

not have held the dogma of Transubstantiation, the Eeal Presence, 
the reiteration of Christ's sacrifice, &c. But he fails to distinguish 
between a commemorative sacrifice and the commemoration of a 
8{\crifice. His exposition of the design of the Lord's Supper ignores 
the reality of Chiist's Atonement, and would be accepted by the 
advocates of the merely humanitarian view of His person, His life, 
and His death. Everything is so easily "set aside" or waved as 
by a magic wand into the region of the figurative and parabolic, 
that we have nothing left beyond the barest elements of natural 
reh'gion; and the Communion Addresses of Dr. Martineau are, in 
tlieir positive teaching, as distinctly Christian and Evangelical as 
tliese Essays of Dean Stanley's. 

To discuss these and similar points would, however, require a 
volume rather than a brief article, and we must for the present leave 
them. We are compelled to reject much for which Dean Stanley has 
ingeniously and forcibly pleaded. His logic is often faulty, his power 
to awaken tender and pathetic sentiment is occasionally misleading, 
^d his examples are not always pertinent. But, witli all drawbacks* 
this is a noble book, and should be received with grateful appreciation. 
If we read it wisely, it will, in the author's own words, help us to 

*'loTe one anotiier in spite of differences, in spite of faults, in spite of the excesses 
of one or tke defects of another. Love one another and make the best of oue 
another, as He loved us who, for the sake of saving what was good in the human 
^^al, forgot, forgave, put out of sight what was bad. . . . Make the most of what 
there is good in institutions, in opinions, in communities, in individuals. . . , 
It is very easy to fix our attention on the weak points of those around as, to 
outgnify them, to irritate them, to aggravate them ; and by so doing we can make 
the buiden of life imendurahle, and can destroy our own and others' happiness 
and usefulness wherever we go. But this was not the new love wherewith we 
are to love one another." 




HE friend whose loss we mouni, and whose mortal remainB lie 

before us, was a man of a singularly simple and modest nature, 
aTerse from all ostentation and pomp, whether for the living 
or for the dead. I think, if his own wishes had been con- 
' suited, he would have shrunk from all elaborate funenJ 

obsequies or eulogies, and would have been content to be buried in silence, 
or with suoh a religious service as that just performed. That, I confess, 
would also have been more in harmony with my own feelings. MeditatiTe 
and sorrowful silence is the mood with which I prefer to stand at the 
grave of a friend. For what eloquence does not seem almost an imper- 
tinence in the presence of the dread and solemn mystery of death? Bat 
many friends seemed to think it was hardly fitting that such a man should 
be hidden from the eyes of the living without some slight tribute being 
paid to his high character and eminent services — ^without some word being 
spoken to express the affection, the gratitude, the reverence we cherish 
for his name and memory, and the profound sense of loss with which we 
regard his departure from among us. This duty haa devolved upon me 
for no other reason than that I had the inestimable privilege of living for 
many years in intimate friendship with hira, and of bearing some humble 
share in his counsels and public labours. 

We witness to-day the close of a great career — the end of a veiy noble and 
fruitful life. Mr. Miall was one of the few men who shaped and directed 
his whole life according to a pre-determined purpose. He early fixed a 
definite aim before him, and then worked towards it with firm and 

* The death of thia great ohampion of religiona equality occurred on Friday 
evening, April 29th. We intend to record the leading facta of hla memorable life in 
our next iarae ; but we gladly avail ooraelvea now of the eolomna of the Nweon- 
/omM and Independent for putting within the reach of our readers who may ^ 
have seen it the eminently beantifnl addreea which waa delivered at the fnoenl 
service by Mr. Henry Bichard, and of which, eo far aa we are aware^ no other 
equally foil report haa been pnbliahed. A more tmthfal, appropriate, and right* 
hearted enlogiam on our lamented Nonoonformiat leader conld not have beea 

The Late Edward MtalL r6i 

tundeviatizig constancy. But that aim was not one of personal aggrandise- 
ment. It was not to push himself into prominence and power. It was 
not to climb the slippery steeps of ambition, that he might sit enthroned 
on the summit, crowned with such &me and glory as the world could 
give. He chose, I think, a better part. He devoted his life to the 
service of a grand and dominant idea. Having adopted, as a matter of 
profound conviction, a great principle which he deemed — ^and which many 
of as here deem — to be intimately associated with the honour of God's 
truth, the purity of Christ's Church, the unity and the peace of the nation 
of which he was proud to be a citizen, and the general progress of freedom, 
justice, and religion in the world, he took it to his heart, imbibed it into 
his spirit, until it became the very life-blood of his soul. The principle 
had been avowed, proclaimed, and advocated by many before him. But 
it did not seem to him to have as much place in the minds of men, and 
especially of the Free Churches of this country, as its paramount import- 
snce demanded. He determined, therefore, to make himself its apostle, 
to devote all his energies, in season and out of season, in honour and dis- 
faonoar, in evil report and good report, to expound its wide-reaching 
significance, to show its vital relations to many of the highest interests of 
human life, and to urge its claims on the attention of the world, until men 
should be compelled, not only to admit its soundness as abstract truth, 
but to recognise its practical value as the foundation of Christian states- 
manship, and to embody it in the national policy. 

He brought to his task some rare qualifications — a vigorous and well- 
disciplined intellect, a spirit full of fervid devotion to his work, unswerving 
firmness and force of will, and that highest form of courage which is rooted 
in profound conviction and sustained by a consciousness of something like 
a Divine call. It was not a holiday task he had undertaken. When we 
recall th^ temper of the time, the state of opinion and feeling even among 
Nonconformists, and all the circumstances and conditions which sur- 
rounded him when he first committed himself to the enterprise, it is 
hardly possible to conceive of anything more bearing the character of a 
forlorn hope. Few, I think, are aware of the severity of the struggle he 
had to encounter in those early days. He was not one to make moan 
<)ver his own sufferings and sacrifices for the cause he loved. But once or 
twice, in the intimate confidence of private friendship, he lifted a corner 
of the vail, and gave me a glimpse of that period of his history. He had 
<^linquished his pastorate, and thrown himself upon Providencei to under- 

262. TAe Late.. Edward Mtall. 

take what is proverbially one of the most haaardous and preoarioua of 
human enterprises — the establishment of a newspaper^ to be the organ of 
the advocacy he contemplated. With limited means, or no means at all 
that were certain, with obseuie and doubtful prospects for the future, with 
a growing fiunily, with heavy responsibilities, or responsibilities that were 
heavy to one in his position, with all the commercial and literary burdens 
of the paper on his own shoulders, with some old friends vehemently dis- 
approving the course he was taking, with the leaders of the Nonconfonnist 
world looking askance upon, if not actively opposing, him— there were 
times when the trial of his faith was sore, such as might have daunted 
and turned aside a man of less earnest convictions and a lesjt resolute 
purpose. Very touching to me are the words he used many } ears after- 
wards, when excusing some little vehemence and acerbity of tone with 
which his early writings were charged. '' The sense of solitariness which 
the then state of public opinion forced upon the writer will account in 
part for the intensity of his tone of expression. He felt himself as one 
crying in the wilderness." But, believing that he was called to this par- 
ticular ministry, he did not abate one jot of heart or hope, but steered 
right on towards the work he had set before him. In a deep and devout 
spirit he had said to himself, " This one thing will I do,'' ^nd he did it 
bravely, steadily, determinedly, to the end. He was one of those who 
prove themselves '^ valiant for the truth upon the earth." 

Gradually and slowly he created, for he had to create, a public for him- 
self. Slowly, I say, or comparatively so, for his powers were not such as 
to take the world by storm. His mind was deliberate rather than 
impulsive or impassioned. Both his writing and his oratory, as many of 
us can bear witness, could be at times most impressive, powerful, and con- 
vincing. But his eloquence was not such as to carry men suddenly away, 
as with the force of a torrent. It did not resemble the mighty wind that 
rent the rocks, or the earthquake, or the fire, but rather, what was better 
and far more effective, the still small voice. By the clear enunciation 
of principle, by the logical force of his reasoning, by the persuasive earnest- 
ness of his appeals, he instilled conviction into the depths of men's 
natures, where it remained ever after as a permanent and plastic power. 

But though this process, by which he made disciples, may have been 
more tardy than that of men endowed with a more fiery and impetuous 
genius, it was far more sure and lasting. Those whom he converted to 
his views became his followers for life. Year by year they grew and 

The Late Edward MialL 263 

moltipliedy nntil at last they were scattered in thousandd over the face of 
tiie oonntryy constitutrng, I venture to believe, the very pick in intelligence^ 
force of chanoter, and practical usefulness and activity of the Free Church <*8 
of this land. Yes, as compared with the solitariness of his early days, to 
which he so pathetically refers, he had in his later years, very abundantly, 

*' All thftt which sboald aooompuiy old age — 
All hoBonr, love, obedienoe, troopi of friendPt" 

For the disciplesbip of those who followed Mr. Miall had something in it 
of the character of passionate, personal attachment. Very beautiful and 
affecting it was, at the last Triennial Conference of the Liberation Society, 
when he appeared — and could only appear— on the platform (for he was 
too weak to open hia lips), to see the affectionate devotion, the deep-hearted ' 
enthusiasm, tempered by reverence, and something almost like awe, with 
which he was greeted by that crowded assembly of men, many of whose 
heads were gray with years, and their eyes moistened with irrepressible- 

I have already referred to the fact that, in the earlier years of his 
ftdvocaoy of the cause to which he consecrated his life, he sometimes used- 
severe and vehement language. That was a passing phase, for which there 
was ample explanation and excuse. But those who are acquainted with 
the great body of his writings and speeches know that the general character 
of that advocacy was most truly described by his friend Mr. Bright at tb • 
presentation made to him on the twenty-first anniversary of the establis}>- 
ment of the Nonconformist : — " This is a great question ; and I have reai 
for twenty years past the writings and speeches of Mr. Miall in connectiou 
with it, and I say that he has arranged a mass of facts wholly indisputabV^ 
and marshalled a list and power of arguments that are wholly unanswer- 
able; and that, in addition to this, he has submitted them all to the 
public ear with a courtesy, a toleration, and a purpose which have never 
been surpassed in any political or ecclesiastical controversy." Those who 
knew him only through the few and occasional acerbities of expression* 
vhich were unfairly picked and published out of his early writings, rushed 
to the conclusion that he was a man of a stem, morose, and fanatical 
spirit. A more utter mistake was never committed. I never met in life 
one of a more broad, catholic, and tolerant temper ; and though he was 
not demonstrative of feeling, and did not wear his heart upon his sleeve^ 
those who were admitted to his intimacy knew that he was a man of 
most loving and lovable nature, with a deep fountain of tenderness ready 

^64 The Late Edward MtalL 

to overflow on the slightest touch of genial affection and sympathy on the 
part of others. 

It may be asked, '' Has he prospered in his self-imposed missioni" Well, 
the moral influence wielded by such a teacher as Mr. Miall is not to be 
weighed and measured by the coarse, material standard of worldly success. 
You cannot put it into a schedule or table of statistics. It is subtle and 
impalpable as the light and air. But, like the light and air, it is diffasive, 
penetrating, irresistible. That his teachiug has thus gone forth and 
mingled with and moulded to a large extent our national life, no one can 
•doubt who marks the altered tone of public opinion on the great question 
•to which he consecrated his powers, and the marvellous progress made in 
•regard to that class of measures connected with and springing out of the 
principle of religious equality which he so boldly and effectively cham* 
>pioned. His own conviction on this point was deep, calm, and confident. 
When a few of us, two years ago, had the pleasure of waiting upon him 
to present an address to him on the attainment of his seventieth year, in 
4iis modest, touching, and most beautiful reply he used these words — 
ihey may almost be said to be his dying words — 

'' And, as they say, the toDgnes of dying men 
Enforce attention like deep harmony." 

'' My great and enduring solace is this — that the movement for the libera- 
tion of religion from State patronage and control is now far beyond the 
reach of personal changes. It is a moral force which has its life and vigonr 
in itself ; it is sure of triumph, though many of us, perhaps, will not live to 
see it. Like the ocean tide, it rolls onward, and, in spite of casual fluctoa- 
tions on its surface, will roll onward until it has reached the limit prepared 
for it. . . . It is a matter of devout thankfulness to me that my life has 
been mainly spent in the furtherance of an object which I can now regard 
with even greater satisfaction than when I started in my public career — 
one the importance of which acquires a deeper tone every day I live ; one 
for which I am far from regretting that I spent my chief and almost un- 
divided energies ; and one the eventual realisation of which, whatever may 
become of my name, will be a vast accession of good, political and spiritnal, 
to my fellow-men." 

Mr. Miall was a man of profoundly religious nature. Indeed, we may 
safely say that the peculiar course he took sprang from the depth and 
intensity of bis Christian convictions. He knew, of course, that the great 
question of which he was the champion had political relations of the most 

The Late Edward MialL * 265 

important character, and no man did so much to bring into clear light 
those relations. But that which ever held the most prominent place in 
bis thoughts was its Christian side. In the paper that he read at the first 
Conference of the great association of which he was the main originator and 
org>miser, after expatiating at some length on the social and political evils of 
the system to which he was opposed, he added : — '' Butthepolitical side of this 
question dwindles into insignificance when compared with the spirituaL'* 
Those who have read his admirable book, entitled '' Bases of Belief," know 
how deeply he had pondered, and how persistently he had wrestled with, 
the great problems of belief and unbelief which agitate our age, and with 
what a firm grasp he held his faith in all the essential truths of 

Bat he is gone, and many of us who were more or less associated with 
him in his great life-work feel a sense of loss and desolateness that is 
inexpressible. I will speak to you, however, a few words of consolation in 
his own voice. At one of the great Triennial Conferences to which I have 
referred, he recalled many faithful friends who had been with him at the 
commencement of his career, and who had passed away. Thus he spoke, 
and thus, being dead, he yet speaketh : — 

" The thought of oar departed friends will no donbt deepen oar sense of responsibility 
in carrying forward that enterprise in the origination of which they so largely shared ; 
ttd we shall feel as If their spirits were with as on this oooasion. The spoils which 
death has gathered from that aaaembly (the first Conference) have been ample and 
rich ; bat, thank God, at no time during the career of the Society have there been 
waoting good men and trae ready to step forward and be ' baptized for the dead.' 
If the oaase we have at heart be, as we nnhesitatiogly believe it to be. representative 
of the willy and sanctioned by the approval, of the Divine Head of the Charch, its 
progress will not be ultimately retarded by the disappearance from the stage, one by 
one, of the most valaed of its earthly friends. Hitherto it has lived, it has grown, It 
htt advanced with unfaltering steps, notwithstanding all the personal changes which 
bave ooeanred within its history. We can rejoice in the belief that the vital trath it 
«mhodies will more than repair its own waste, and that whosoever may be taken, 
whosoever left, the goal towards which that trath is tending will be sarely reached." 

The lesson which I should wish to take to myself from this solemn scene 
is the very simple and trite lesson — '' Work while it is day, for the night 
Cometh when no man can work.'' Alas ! that the capacity for work should 
<iecline when its urgency becomes more manifest, as the limited time 
within which it can be done becomes more contracted, while conscious 
that so much remains to be done. We stand now over the coffin of one of 
whom we may say, as was said of the Master whom he loved and tried to 


On the Lynn* 

follow, he has finished the work that was given him to do. Let ns make 
him our example. It may not be given us to emulate him in vigour of 
intellect, in power of eloquence, iu capacity to influence and sway the 
minds of other men. But let us try to follow him in his loyalty to 
conscience, in his fidelity to principle, in his patient continuance in well- 
doing, in his devotion to truth and duty, and his unfaltering trust in God. 
The time is come that we must bid him fiirewell. Farewell to the eloquent 
teacher, the wise counsellor, the trusted leader, the faithful and loving 
friend. Farewell — ^it may be for some of us for a very little while — ^nntil 
we meet, as we hope to meet, where all sorrow and contention shall 

" In the bleit EiDgdom meek of Joy and Love.'^ 

(Dn iht ^ijmi. 

(At Lynmouth, 21st September, 1875.) 

HE voice of many waters " ever emailing, 

To God their ceaseless hallelujahs poiu* ; 
From rock to rock their foamy lustre falling, 
DowTi to the sounding sea in hurrying eddies brawling, 
To add their music to its mighty roar. • 
E'en so, while down this earthly valley wending 

Life speeds its rugged course along, 
Would I my days in grateful praise be spending 

To Him to whom my ransomed powers belong. 
Lord of my life ! grant that at life's ending 

I too may join the everlasting song. 


E. C. Aldeh. 


tMtx Cbiniqug anb % fxtmh Camibhm Cutbolics. 

To tAtf Editor of The Baptist Magazine. 
Dear Sib, 

I herewith beg to enclose an article on Father Chiniciuy, Three yean* 

ago it was my privilege to spend nearly a week with a young Frenchman who 

had been educated for the priesthood, but whose eyes w^ere opened to see the 

errors of his Church. He was a highly educated young man, as you will infer 

when I tell you that he has just published a French Grammar, with idioms, &c., 

which has been very favourably reviewed. 

He spent three nights at my house, and from him I gathered much of Mr. 

Chiniquy's career. Since meeting with him I have met with a gentleman in this 

town who, when in Canada some years ago, heard of this great movement, and 

possibly your Magazine will be circulated amongst many who will be interested 


I trust the article may find fSivour with you. 

With kindest r^ards. 

Yours truly, 

Shotley Bridge, Co. Durham, H. Smith, Wesleyan Minister, 

Api-il 2Ut, 1891. 

HEN the tercentenary of the Scottish Eeformation was 
celebrated nearly a quarter of a century ago, Father 
Chiniquy was warmly greeted in the Scottish metropolis, 
where he told of the wonderful work of God among his 
own countrymen in Canada. 
The tidings of his contemplated visit to this country ; the reception 
which has been recently given to him in Australia ; the lectures he has 
already published ; the remarkable book on " The Priest, Woman, and 
the Confessional," which he issued in 1879; besides his zeal and 
success as a temperance advocate — ^will, we have no doubt, serve to 
kindle and intensify the desire of many to see and hear him. A few 
words about him and his work will not be out of place in this serial. 
It was in the year 1858 that Chiniquy published the letter in a 
French newspaper in Montreal which became the occasion of the 
religious movement which has had such an influence upon the 
Canadians ever since. Still, it would be a mistake to assume that 
there had been no preparation for it in their minds. 
In the year 1835 there arrived at Montreal two persons upon 

268 Father Chtniquy and the French Canadian Catholics. 

whose hearts the Lord had laid the burden : " Go to preach and teach 
My Gospel in Canada." The names of these servants were M. Louis 
iRoussy and Madame Feller. The latter opened a school for French 
Canadian children, many of whom were Catholics. Roussy also 
opened a school about twenty-five miles to the south-east of Montreal 
He had not laboured long before fruit appeared. Several Eoman 
Catholic families renounced their faith. On account of this the 
priests protested and persecuted. In spite of these opponents, success 
was given to the work commenced by Feller and Eoussy. These 
labourers in the Lord received much help from the Rev. J. Gilmour, 
X^astor of the Baptist church at Montreal. He undertook the task of 
providing for Madame Feller a building, which served as a dwelling, 
41 school-house, and a place of worship ; and, when more ample accom- 
modation was needed, members of various religious bodies came to 
the help of these two missionaries. 

In 1841, MM. Cyr and Lafleur, two young Frenchmen, residing 
near the school of the Protestant missionaries, became Protestants. 
After a time they became theological students at the Grande ligne 
Institution, and afterwards entered the theological school of Geneva, 
iit that time under the presidency of the gifted Merle d'Aubign^. 
lieturning to Canada after their training in Geneva, they laboured 
-ceaselessly to win souls for Christ. 

It became evident to the Eoman bishop and priests that something 
more must be done, or the influence of their Church would fade and 
perish. At that time Father Chiniquy was the most eloquent preacher 
they had in Lower Canada. He was urged to do liis utmost to save 
his countrymen from the delusions of Protestants. Glad of the 
honour, he went forth to do the bishop's will. After a public dis- 
cussion with M. Eoussy, Chiniquy, in one of his discussions against 
the " new and detestable sect," pointing to the chapel of which the 
foundations were being laid, said, " Children of .our holy Church, you 
will not allow these walls to rise any higher, if you are faithful to 
your mother." Still the walls of the chapel were completed. In 
connection with that work, as in several similar enterprises, the 
Baptists stood in the front rank as feUow-helpers. 

Before a year had elapsed Chiniquy was recalled, and sent to a 
distant settlement of French Canadians in the State of Illinois, no 
one but the bishops knowing why he had been sent. Chiniquy 
suspected he knew the reason, and was resolved to have the matter 

Father Chiniqny and the French Canadian Catholics, 269 

sifted To secure what he desired he sent copies of letters to the 
late Napoleon III. and to Pius IX. imploring them, in the interests 
of the French emigrants and the Catholic Church, to remove the 
then bishop and appoint another. Chiniquy, like Luther on a 
similar occasion, was successful; but this circumstance proved to 
be a turning-point in his life, and a crisis in the Catholicism of 

Chiniquy's father, though educated for the priesthood, hesitated to 
accept ordination. The hesitancy after a time developed into a 
positive refusal. Upon his leaving tlie Quebec Seminary, where he 
had been trained, his superior, assuming that, though Chiniquy had 
scruples of conscience as to accepting the ofhce of jniest, he would 
always remain attached to the mother Church, presented liini with a 
copy of the Word of God, and gave him permission to read it with 
notes supplied by trustworthy interpreters within the Church. Thus 
privileged, he settled as a lay teacher in a remote and retired country 
village in the States. There he married, and for several years con- 
tinued his work as a teacher. He continued to read the Bible which 
the superior had given him. The exhortation to keep the Book under 
lock and key was ignored. Not only was his wife permitted to read 
it, but also his son. At the age of nine the boy had committed to 
memory several chapters of the Old and New Testaments. On rainy 
Sundays, when the villagers were unable to go to service, which was^ 
conducted in a chapel at a great distance, it was not unusual for 
Chiniquy to allow his son to repeat a chapter from his highly prized 
Bible for the edification of his neighbours. One of the auditors made 
a statement in the confessional which implicated the elder Chiniquy, 
At the earliest opportunity the parish priest paid a visit to this 
heretic's house, and inquired as to the truth of the report. " Is it 
true that you and your son read the Bible ? " " It is," replied 
Chiniquy ; " and if you like you shall hear him." " I don't come 
here for that," said the priest ; *' besides, don't you know it is for- 
bidden by the Church ? " " But," said the father, " the Bible was 
given me by the superior of the Quebec Seminary, who surely knew 
what he was doing." " Monsieur Chiniquy, you know it is forbidden 
you to have any Bible except in Latin or Greek. I have come to 
get your Trench Bible to bum it." Chiniquy said notliing for a few 
nM)ments, but in a state of great agitation paced the room ; then, 
nerving himself for the effort, he ^firroly and politely said, " Sir, if 

270 Father Chiniquy and the French Canadian CatJtoltcs, 

you have nothing else to tell me, you know the door by which you 

This circumstance produced a deep impression upon the mind of 
his son, and from that time he read the Bible more carefully than 
ever, and, before reaching the close of his twentieth year, was able to 
repeat from memory most of the New Testament. 

It was his own wish, as well as that of his father, that he should 
become a distinguished servant of the Church. He was educated for 
the priesthood, and in 1833 — two years before M. Lotus Eoussy and 
Madame Feller began their brilliant missionary career — Chiniquy was 
ordauied priest. Meanwhile, he passed througli a sharp mental and 
spiritual conflict. He frequently tried to reconcile the differences he 
found upon comparing the words of the Saviour and His apostles 
with those of the Eomanists, at whose feet he sat as a dihgent 
student for more than thirty years. 

At the Scottish tercentenary Chiniquy said, " My reading of the 
Bible made me suspect that everything was not right in my Church. 
But every time these thoughts came into my mind that my Church was 
not the Church of Christ, I went to my knees and shed tears, thinking 
that I was tempted of the devil. The voice of God was coming to 
me twenty times a day, saying, ' You are following in your Church the 
laws of men and not the laws of God.' " Still, he was zealous for 
the Church of his fathers. Finding that tens of thousands of his 
countrymen were annually leaving Canada for the .United States, and 
that the greater part of them, in consequence of being scattered 
among Protestants, were in danger of renouncing the Soman Catholic 
faith, he besought the bishops to select a number of priests in order to 
gather these Boman Catholic French Canadians and bring them to the 
Far West of the States and make a distinct people of them. The 
bishops were in favour of the project, and in 1851 Mr. Chiniquy 
selected a place, which at that time was a wilderness, where a colony, 
offering accommodation for nearly a quarter of a million persons, was 
planted. He sent forth invitations to his fellow-countrymen, who 
were scattered abroad through the States, to settle in this colony. 
Thousands upon thousands hastened to the district. Boman Catholic 
churches were built, and priests were sent to take charge of the flocks. 
Chiniquy continued to read his Bible, and, though the Church said 
it was not safe to place the Scriptures in the hands of the people, 
Chiniquy thought otherwise, and when he went forth as a missionary 

Father Chifitquy and the French Canadian Catholics. 271 

lie carried New Testaments and Bibles with him, and, as he had 
opportunity, freely circulated them amongst the inhabitants. 

While thus engaged, a great scandal was brought upon the Church 
by the immoral conduct of one of the bishops. Ultimately, the bishop 
was removed, and another sent to take charge of the bishopric ; and, 
upon his appointment, some of his friends — the grand vicar amongst 
the number — urged Chiniquy to make peace with him. Tired, and 
sad at heart after a three years' controversy of a painful character, he 
wrote the bishop as follows : — " My Lord, we are determined to sub- 
mit ourselves to your authority, according to the laws of Grod and the 
peace of the Gospel" The bishop was thankful to receive such an 
assurance, assuming that " the laws of God and the peace of the 
Gospel " meant the laws of the Church ; but, when he discovered that 
Chiniquy meant " We will obey your authority according to the Word 
of God ' as we find it in the sabered Scriptwres of Christ,' " it was 
another matter. 

Ten days afterwards the bishop desired the presence of this coura- 
geous son of truth again. When they met, his lorddiip asked 
whether he had brought the document he had shown him a few days 
previously. "Yes," said he, and handed it to the bishop, who 
immediately took it to the stove and thrust it into the fire. " My 
lord," inquired Chiniquy, " what authority have you to take from my 
hands a document which is mine, and destroy it without my per- 
mission ? " " Are you not aware that I am your superior ? " retorted 
the bishop ; " as your superior I have no answer to give you." " Sir," 
repUed Chiniquy, "you are my superior; you are a great bishop. 
But there is a great God in heaven, who is above you, and that great 
God has granted me rights which I will never give up to the hands 
of man . Now, in the presence of that great God, I do protest against 
your in iquity." Hising to his feet, he went on to say to the bishop : 
" My lord, ihe act of submission that you require from me is an act 
of adoration. I refuse to do it — ^I refuse to you that act of submission, 
and I refuse it to the Bishop of Eome. There is one God in heaven, 
whom I will obey without condition, and to whom I am ready to say 
IwiU do anything He bids me." The spirit of Luther moved the 
soul of this champion. The President of the Jesuits in Chicago was 
by the side of the bishop as Chiniquy spoke. Bishop and President 
were of opinion : " Mr. CSiiniquy, if it be so, you cannot be any more 
a Horaan Catholic priest," 

272 Father Chiniquy and the French Canadian Catholics, 

Leaving them with the words " Almighty God be blessed for eve^', 
he resolved to follow the leadings of Divine Providence. Taking his 
New Testament in hand, he opened it, hoping to find some suitable 
word ; but for the moment he could read nothing. Lis eyes being 
blinded with tears. After a time the tears ceased to flow. He again 
opened the New Testament, and read 1 Cor. vii. 23 : " Ye are bought 
with a price; be ye not the slaves of men." Overcome with 
surprise upon reading this appropriate passage, the book fell 
from his hand. It seemed as though he heard One saying, " I have 
died for thy sins ; come and believe in Me ; make My Word the light 
of thy feet and the lamp of thy path, and I will make thee clean and 
take away all thy iniquity." 

Meanwhile, Chiniquy's bishop wrote to the French Canadian 
colonists informing them that he had been excommunicated. Wien, 
on the Sunday morning, the hour came for service, the people 
assembled at the chapel door in crowds, who eagerly inquired, " Wliat 
is the news ? " "I have no news to tell you here," said he, " but come 
into the church." For two hours he addressed them, and at the close 
of his address appealed to the heart and intelligence of his audience, 
thus : — ^" Frenchmen, I respect you too much to impose myself upon 
you ; nevertheless, I will not leave you unless you tell me to go. If 
you think it better to follow Christ than the Pope, better to tnist 
Jesus than the Virgin Mary, well. My countrymen, dear Frenchmen, 
the mighty God has taken me out of the house of bondage \ He will 
also take you from it. Will you accept the deliverance ? Will you 
go with me to the feet of Jesus ? " 

This appeal went to the hearts of thousands that day. It wa^ 
indeed, a Pentecost. From all parts of the church arose strong cry- 
ing and tears. " My shoulders are bleeding," said one, " with the yoke 
of man." Another exclaimed, " Pull down the images ; we have been 
at their feet long enough." With scarcely an exception, all the con- 
gregation rose, " men with beards pressing the young men to their 
breasts, and mothers shaking hands 'wdth their daughters," said 
Chiniquy, " all praising the Lord because they had been made free by 
the Word of God." 

Soon after this circumstance, a new bishop was appointed, who 
professed to be very anxious to reclaim those who had wandered from 
the fold. He sent Chiniquy a letter requesting him to use his 
influence in assembling the people to hear the charge. He did so. 

Father Chtniquy and Ou French Canadian Catholics, 273 

There was none absent — ^not even the sick. When, at the appointed 
hour, the bishop arrived, Chiniquy hoisted a flag upon which were 
marked stars and stripes. To the bishop this banner bore no strange 
device. The mottoes meant, " Sir, the days of darkness are gone, 
and the days of light are come. No longer are we in bondage and 
sorrow." The bishop finished his sermon. At the close he inquired, 
" French Canadians, I see that you do not pay attention and respect 
to my authority, as I had a right to expect ; and, in the name of God, 
who is hearing me, I ask you, who will regulate you in the ways of 
God if you reject my authority ? " Then followed an ominous silence. 
In a few moments it was broken by one who had the courage of his 
convictions, who said, as with a voice of thunder, " We reject for ever 
your authority. We have nothing to guide us now but the Word of 
Oodas we find it in the Bible. Bishop, it is better for you to, go 
away, never to come back again," and 3,000 men, with one " Amen," 
approved the words. 

This movement, begun so auspiciously by two Frenchmen, and 
supported by the sympathy and prayers of some of the worthiest 
workers amongst the Baptists in the States, still continues to grow. 
In a book published in 1879, Chiniquy says : " I am sixty-nine years 
old; in a short time I shall be in my grave. I shall have to give an 
account of what I say. Well, it is in the presence of my 
•ludge, with the tomb before my eyes, I say, ' Auricular confession is 
one of the most stupendous impostures which Satan has invented to 
enslave and corrupt the world.' " Elsewhere in the same book he 
says: "The world in the darkest ages of old Paganism has never 
seen anything so infamous and degrading as the Confessional" He 
promises to issue a very important book on the errors of the Papacy. 
No one is better qualified than he for this work. 

While we are glad to welcome Beecher, Talmage, Moody, Sankey, 
Cook, and Cuyler, we shall also be glad to see amongst us Cliiniquy, 
should circumstances permit. H. S. 


K (me of those afternoons in t^e month of Marcli last frttkb 

vere so light sad genial that one skaddered at their 

delightfulness, wondering what manner of thing the 

inevitable after-blaat wonld be, two ladies were seated, eaeii 

engaged with some scrap of needlework, near the \»j 

window of a well-ordered, cheerful room, lookiDg out on a strip of 

garden hy which the little honse was seeladed tmm the road, and 

which was jnst then very pleasant with its patch of grass, its btmches 

of snowdrops and crocnaes, its few shrubs, some of them b^inniog to 

flower, and its two or three yomg trees which, excited by the nnusnal 

sunshine, rashly proposed to rush into flower too, reckless of cantioD 

or permission — as one may say, leaf or no leaf. 

Mrs. Gray, the mistress of the house, and her Tsitor, Krs. Pearee, 
had long known each other, though of recent years they had mely 
met. In early yonth, when they both lived in the little Tillage of 
Brookwood, they were close firiends, shared each other's confidence, 
taught tc^ether in the Sunday-achool, and joined the church at Ik 
same time. It was on a ediort visit to Brookwood, which wo 
anaaged for the sake of enjoying a quiet Sunday and a few bcnn 
in the fields, that Mr. Gray first met the amiable lady who after- 
wards became his wife. Gcmceming this important event, ve 
need cmly here say of him, as of how many an adventurous man ? 
— " He came, he saw, he was conquered." But that (as he sometinies 
observes to her who conqoered him, adapting some poef s words) 
was " twenty years ago." 

" Twenty jtm agt^ my dading ; twent? ytsm •go." 
Vot nearly that length of time our friends havQ lived at CottenriUe, 
though not always in tlie pretty house which now belongs to them. 
Mr. Gray, by intelligence and industry, aided by fmnk and geoUe 
manners, has prospered in his undertakings, and is by none so bigU? 
esteemed as by those who most fiilly know him. He has grown up 
EicHn boyhood in one circle of religious friends, increasingly loved and 
trusted, and has for some yeais been one of the deacons at Tiinity 


/ Neoer AtUnd Church Meetings:' 275 

The Peaxces^ having lately removed to Cottenville^ united them- 
selves to the same church, and the ladies, notwithstanding the changes 
vron^t by time^ were pleased with the opportunity of renewing their 
former friendship. It had been arranged that the afternoon already 
referred to shotdd be spent by them together, and that Mr. Pearce 
shoold return from town with Ifr. Gray to a late tea, and take his 
wife home. The time passed in pleasant talk about home affairs, 
the children of both families, the doings of the boys at school, baby's 
miraculous new tooth, the inscrutability of the Cottenville servants, 
the best shops in the neighboorhood, and other poetical and practioal 
matters, till at length Mrs. Pearce alluded to the previous evening's 

" Such a sermon ! ^ she exclaimed, " and such a service altogether ! 
surely it must do great good." 

" It was well adapted to do good," replied Mrs. Gray. " Owpwlot 
was in his happiest mood ; his whole heart seemed in the service, and 
his sermon was, as it always is when he preaches to the young, the 
very ' milk of the Word.' " 

" Tes, indeed ! So simple and yet so full I So glowing and so 

" Yes f I often wonder that so much earnestness has so little 
apparent result. It is not as though it were a thing only of fits and 
starts. There is nothing spasmodic in it." 

" But you don't mean to say that Mr. Thomas's ministry is wanting 
in results ? " 

" Oh, dear, no ! It is what is called a successful ministry. Th4 
congregations are good, the finances flourish, and additions are made 
to the church. We have much to rejoice over-*-much ; but I often 
feel that we might look for more if only we were all as earnest, or 
anything like as earnest, as our pastor is." 

" fiat isn't th^re a difference ? Kone of us are in his portion." 

'' But we are all in the position of members of the church. If we 

fill that position as W0 ought we shall do much to help the minister. 

By-the-by, I hope you will be able to go to the service on Wednesday 

evening, and stay to the ohun^ meeting." 

Oh, I never attend chureii«<meetingB I " 

Kever attend churchumeetings ? How is that ? I have missed 

yoQ, and I kiuyw you hate many home-^ties ; but I hoped you miglib 

manage it now " 


276 " / Never Attend Church Meetings** 

" It is not entirely the home-ties that keep me away. I don't like 

" You don't really mean that you never go ? You used to be con- 
stantly at the church-meetings at Brookwood." 

"Ah! we were young then, dear; and I liked the meetings there. 
Dear old Brookwood ! Those were happy days." And the speaker 
sighed, and paused from her work, and looked out over the garden, 
and saw nothing of what was there^ but saw rather the plain old 
school-room beside the still graveyard in the village where she was 
bom, the face of her old pastor, and the friends of bygone years. 

" Those were happy days," she said. Her friend looked at her, not 
without some wonderment; and then, unwilling to interrupt her, 
stitched on for a while in silence. For this confession of having left 
the old Brookwood ways, with the strong affection evidently still 
cherished for them, suggested many a question. " Is it not strange;' 
she said to herself, " that some of the very best people fall into this 
bad habit about church-meetings ? I should have thought Jane had 
been too well taught to become a victim to it. It is not that she has 
lost her love for the Saviour or for His Church, though, to be sure 
(judging from some things one sees), that would seem to have little to 
do with it I wonder how it is ? I must ask her presently." 

At this moment Mrs. Pearce turned towards her, and said with 
some feeling : " I dare say you wonder at me, and sometimes I wonder 
at myself. But my path has led me through very different scenes 
from those of the old Brookwood days, and from those of our life 
here. Perhaps that explains the change." 

" I was certainly surprised, dear, to hear you say what you did. It 
seemed so unlike you. But tell me about it" 

" Well, at Brookwood, as you say, I always attended the meetings. 
I wouldn't have missed them on any account But the last eight 
years, you know, before we came here, we lived at Thistleton, and 
there all was so different They were such a quarrelsome people ! I 
bore it as long as I could, and so did Mr. Pearce ; but one night a 
speech was made by an old member of the church, attacking the 
pastor, sneering at the deacons, and generally scolding everybody— 
all for nothing that one could understand. And this was done so 
violently — I might say so virulently — ^with such language, and snch 
ill-temper, that I was shocked and pained more than I can say. 
Then one of the young men rose, and said that, if that were a sample 


I Never Attend Church Meetings'* 277 

of church-meetings, he should give up coining to them ; but he sup- 
I)osed no one was much surprised at what they had jnst heard. They 
all knew how cant rancorous Mr. Jones was, and if he didn't make 
these speeches, of what use would he be in the church ? He never 
(lid anything else. Then there was more of the same sort of thing. 
I managed to stay to the end ; but I've never been to a church-meet- 

ing since." 

" That was bad, to be sure. But did the young man really refer to 
the older one's speech as ' cant rancorous ? ' " 

" He did, indeed ; and the blunder, if it was a blunder, was a very 
happy one. It admirably described the spirit both of the speech and 
of the man." 

'' I think I know the kind of thing ; though, happily, there is not 
much of it at Trinity. But are you sure you were right, after all, 
in absenting yourself from the meetings ? You would not justify 
leaving the minister and the deacons to contend with such men cdont^ 
would you ? " 

" Well, no. But what could I do ? " 

" You could be there. I suppose that, in this case, your sympathies 
weie with the minister and the deacons ; and, that being so, your 
very presence would be felt to be a support. Suppose that every 
member should stay away under the influence of a feeling of disgust 
or dissatisfaction at something or other, what would happen ? Why, 
the whole conduct of the church would be dictated by its most ill- 
conditioned members. But here come papa and Mr. Pearce," and, 
nodding to the gentlemen through the window, Mrs. Gray rose and 
went to the door to let them in. After a few minutes, all were seated 
at tea, and a general conversation commenced, light and airy, at first, 
as the steam from the brimming cups, but becoming graver in a while, 
^ the subject of the afternoon naturally came up. 

'' And what sort of a day have you gentlemen had in town ? " said 
Mrs. Gray. 

" Such a day," replied her husband, *' as makes one disbelieve in 
towns. Think of bending over a desk all day, and making out in- 
voices in a dingy room lighted from the ceiling, when out in the fields, 
a mile or two away, buds are starting in the hedges, violets are 
peeping out in their beauty, and birds are filling the air with music." 

" You like the country, I know," remarked Mr. Pearce, " and so do 
I very welL But I'd rather live where there's plenty of business 

278 '' / N€ver Attend Church Meetings:' 

going on. BirdB and flowers are poor aubatitutes for good cos- 

" Good cnatomeis I " exclaimed the other, with a lavgh. ''Certainlj, 
juat now they aie xare birds-^^-^ui rare and as shy as ostriches. We 
haven't se^i one in Syder Stiieet these three yeam and more," 

'' You want snch big birds, yon folk in the foreign trade; I ctti do 
with something less than ostriches ; but I can't say that even little 

bindf ut pteniiifiiL" 

'' No. You haven't made your foctune to-day, I'll warrant, thiMgh 
we have bad wMtb^ to )mog out evezy land U plumage." 

"We've Aotioedtbat in IJbe park/' mid Mrs* Gray. "" Theie weie 
such numbers there. And wasn't it pleasant," she continued, tunung 
to Mrs, Peaxce, '' to see so many •children out f Those little dears 
that haw been ill, raid shut up aU. the winfaer — ^how they enjoyed the 
siuaahine ! " 

"I am glad ycm got into the park*" said Hr. Gray. ''Andwbat 
else did you do, my dear ? You didn't quarrel, I suppose, tlioqgh 
you both looked serious when wa came in. IMdn't they, Mr. 

" Pid they i? I didnU notioe. Z idcm't suppose they would dissgree 
nKm than they foimd agreeable." 

" I think y<^u are both very disagreeable gentlemen all at once," 
plsjffully observed Mrs. Gray^ " What did y<m .quanel about^ pny, 
as yon 'Came up together ? " 

" Nothii^ very tecrible. Hr, Pearoe inasted on paying the tram- 
Im^ and I wouldn't let him." 

'' Was that all ? Well, ainoe you confesa* I don't mind eonfeBsuDg 
too," said Mrs. Peaoroei ^ We didn't quarrel more than usual, you 
know, but that wife of yours, Mr. Gray, who was always a nmch 
wiser and better woman than I, has been giving me a little leotire.'' 

'' Ko ! not a ]iectare, dear." 

" A mh lecture," said Mr. Gray. " What kind of thing ja that ? 
Did it hurt, Hra Pearoer' 

^ Well, ne ; it didn't hunt, But I keep thinking about it." 

** That's odd," reaaoiixked Mr. Peanee, '' it's just the contmiy with 
me. When Pm lectujed, it ddm hurt, but I dotit think about it 
What's the use 1" 

At this there was a general laugh, and then Mi:. Gray asked, " Bat 
what was this lecture, Mrs. Pearce ? We may a9 wdl have it" 

*' I Never Attend Church Meetings:' 279 

" (A ] I ctta't pretend to r^eat it;, and I think we've laughed about 
it enough. For, after all, it is not a trivial matter. We were talking 
of the chnich and church-meetings, and I said that I never went to 

"Then I dare say you had a lecture. My little wife is quite fierce 
on that subject. And, indeed, it is of &r greater importance than 
many Christian people seem to think." 

The conversation was adjourned to an adjoinii]g room. Mr. Pearce 
asked, ** Can you expect evexy memhey of a church to attend church- 
meetings ? Very few have done so in any church I have known." 

'' I know little of other churchei^ bul^ I suppose they are much 
alike, and I must .confess that our own people are indifferent enough." 

'' Can you wondei^ at it ? Are not such meetings often veiy formal 
and dull — mere occasions for transacting business ; or else far too 
lively — the very people who ought to be silent spouting and speechi- 
fying in a most uabeocnning manner, and proving that they neither 
kaow themselves nor understand what they are talkie^ about ? " 

'' At Trinity we axe fairly fiee from that nuisance, and I dare say 
S01A8 of us think the meetings duUL But whether they be so or not, 
are they not the church's own meetings ? Who is responsible for 
them but the members of the church ? It is too bad for the members 
one after another to absent themselves till the attendance is meagre, 
aod then complain of them as being uninteresting. Even if they be 
as dull as it is said they are, can people become more interested in 
them, or make them more interesting, by staying away from them ? 
The idea is absurd and ridiculous. It reminds xnc of what I saw near 
our warehouse a day or two ago, when a drunken brute kicked his 
dog and then raved at him for yelping, and who, when his boy 
interfered, knocked him down, and then wanted to know what he was 
spawlii^ there for." 

"Well, perhaps you are right. But I acknowledge that these 
meetings seemed to me, when I used to attend them, to be very 

(^''Excuse me, Mr. Pearce; I was not thinking of you just now, but 
^'f people in our own church, who have been long connected with it, 
but who, to my knowledge, have not attended a church-meeting for 
years, and who, nevertheless, know so much about them (or think 
they do) that they are not backward to speak against them. As to 
yourself, if I thought you were serious, I should venture to ask you 

28o " / Never Attend Church MeehngsJ' 

whether you thought the duty of attending to the churches bufliness 
depends upon whether its meetings are what is cs31eS.*irUmtiting* 
or not. I don't admit that it does. Were the business of the church 
as dull as parish accounts^ it would be our duty to attend to it 

" But might it not be Tnadt interesting ? *' 

" It loovld he interesting if you would come and interest yourselves 
in it. No doubt the worth of the meetings would be increased by the 
mere presence of any considerable number of those who now never 
come. If they want ' interesting meetings/ the thing is largely in 
their own hands. They ought not to wait for that, but they certainly 
can help to briiig it about. I am afraid the real root of the matter 
in the great majority of cases is a lack of spirituality. If there were 
a warmer love to the Saviour; a more genuine devotion to Him; a 
truer appreciation of what it is to belong to Him, and of what it is ta 
have, in His infinite grace, a place in His church, there would not— 
could not — ^be this feeling, ikat His affairs are dull. For, think of 
them as we may, our church affairs are His afTairs ; and it is because 
this fact is so faintly realised that church-meetings are so lightly 

" What, now," said Mr. Pearce, " is the usual attendance at the 
church-meetings at Trinity ? " 

*' At our last meeting there probably were about fifty members 
present, and the church nimibers over two hundred. It looks as 
though there might have been a larger attendance, doesn't it ? And 
it would have been good for the absentees to have been there. I 
don't think that any one with a spark of Christian love in his heart 
could have been at that meeting and fek it to be dull. Three candi- 
dates for baptism were received, and the testimony about them and 
from them was most moving. One had been brought to the Saviour 
by the influence of her Sunday-school teacher. Another had come 
one night to the service with a companion, and the sermon had proved 
to be to her the very Word of God, piercing her to the heart, but 
wounding only to heal. The third was a young man, the son of two 
of our most consistent members ; and when our pastor read his letter, 
in which he told how the influence of the daily life of his parents 
had always drawn him towards the Saviour, and had at last con- 
strained him to yield himself entirely to Him, there was scarcely a 
dry eye in the xoom." 


On Fra Angelica's Picture of the Crucifixion. 281 

The speaker ceased. The story was tenderly told, and it touched 
his friend, as well it might, for he too had a son who was the child of 
many prayers, and latterly of many hopes. Mrs. Pearce, however, 
came in at the moment, equipped for going home, and nothing more 
was said. After a warm ^ Good-night ! " the friends separated. Mr, 
and Mrs. Pearce walked quietly to their residence, and the wife 
was soon occupied in superintending the retirement of the young 
children to bed. After an bourns absence, she returned to the room 
to find their eldest son seated with his father in earnest conversa- 
tion. She looked at them both inquiiingly, and her husband said, 
''Willie has been speaking to me about joining the church. By 
God's blessing, last night's sermon decided him, and he wants to see 
Mr. Thomas about it before Wednesday." This was uttered rather 
brokenly, and then both husband and wife burst into tears. 

On Wednesday evening, Mr. and Mrs. Pearce, for the first time in 
seven years, were at the church-meeting, and, sitting next to their 
firiends, Mr. and Mrs. Gray, had the joy of hearing their own son 
mentioned as a candidate for baptism and membership. 

Time will prove how long this better view of their duty to the 

Church and its Lord will last The story has been thus simply told 

that any of its readers who have neglected this same duty may see 

that sucb neglect is wrong, and may resolve, in Christ's name and 

strength, to be guilty of it no more. 


|EARY hearty oppressed with sigliing, 
Every source of comfort trying 

But the one thy Gk)d supplies : 
Turn and leave thy selfish sorrow \ 
Life and strength and patience borrow 
From the place where Jesus dies 1 '.-, 

All thy faithless fears repenting, 
Cease, cease thy vain lamenting : 

On the cross thy Saviour hangs ! 
See the gentle, meek, and lowly, 
See the Lamb of God, most holy, 

Languishing in mortal pangs I 

282 On Fra Angelica's Piaktre of the Cruafixwn. 

TTiynilH all hiuQAii paixui awuagingi 
Feet that trod the billows xaging, 

Cruel naik are pieidng tiiioiigli : 
Lktea to Hk Itoly (deadingy 
For Hu Diiiidflren inleroeding^ 

^ Fox ttbey Sciiow not wkat tbej da'' 

Friend and mother, near Him kee^nng 
Mournlal watok, with bitter weeping, 

Here^ bj U&e avoid of grie( 
Now He views ; and, £or them grievMi 
Bids them, of Himself bezeayMy 

Each to each to bring reliel 

'< Think on me ndieaThou art reigning ! "* 
dies the thief, and, not disdaining, 

Graciously He quick replies. 
On the dying rinner smiling, 
Faithful Uidst the loud reviling, 

"^ To-day with Me in Paradise ! '' 

Man of Sorrows and acquainted 
With all giief^ by sin untainted, 

Parched His throat and wan His eye. 
Tortured, overboine with anguish, 
llow His fevered flesh doth languish, 

** Thirsting " in His agony. 

Darkness o'er the land is brooding,. 
Darkness in His soul intruding, 

Listen to the mournful cry ; 
<< Ood ! My God ! hast Thou forsaken 
Me, Thy Son ? Thy presence taken 

Far from where I groan and dia V* 

Him the Father always lieareth| 
To Him now most nigh appeareth, 

Opens wide His arms of love : 
** Father, to Thy hands My spirit 
I commend, and now inherit 

Endless joy with Thee above." 

Yet once more His dying glances 
Greet the world, as death advances : 

'' It is finished ! " loud He cries. 
Thus, rejoicing in salvation 
Now complete for every nation, 

Jesus bows His head, and dies. 



Now the tramUing earth duoemeth 
QoQids dispeme as day leturneth, 

Shining through the darkened Air, 
While the temple priests, with wonder, 
See the cutaki ient aaunder 

And the H«ly Piece laid bare I 

So, poor heart, tSiy ploom shall brighten ; 
He who bare thy ff^iis shall lighten 

Every load, and lead thy way. 
By the path of service lowly, 
Through the vail to worlds moat holy, 

There to reigii in endless day. 

H. C. Leonard. 


CoxMEKVART ON St. Paul's ISatvssm 

10 TH£ Boif AVS. By F. Godet, D.D. 

Tnnalated from the French by Bev. 

A. Cuain, ^Lh. Volume IX. 

A Sybiuc of Cbrisxiav DoooemvK« 

By Dr. J. A. Bomer. Translated by 

Professor Banks. Volimie II. Edin- 

biogh : T. & T. Clack, 38, Qeorge 


The seoond fvolnme of GJodef s work on 

the Romans comprises his exposition of 

ohapten vL-*»xvi, and thns completes 

ooe of the most profoundly learned and 

apiritnal commentaries on this most 

uutmctive and wonderfnl of the apos- 

^lie wrings. , Gk)det is not, indeed, 

% masterly an exegete as Meyer. His 

textoal and grammatical criticisms axe 

neither so original in their ohameter 

nor 10 extensive in their range, but in 

other and more practical dixections 

Meyer must yield the palm to Oodet 

In eleamess and breadth of spiritual 

apprehension, in doctrinal accuracy, in 

<X)ndensed force, and, above aU, in 

exquiute touches of genius which open 
up immense tiacks of tfaoughti our 
author has no superior. Along with 
the power to appreciate the results of 
the most rigid phlklogical investiga- 
tions and the severest processes of 
foimal logic, he has the intuition of a 
poet, and depends largely on the inter- 
pretative power of a personal spiritual 
experience of the deep things of God. 
He views the cathedral window (to 
borrow a fine image), not tom the cold 
otttsidei where we can discern no 
miracle or glory ef art, but from within, 
where "every ray of light reveab a 
harmony of unspeakable splendour." 
There is, of course, in this Commentary 
much wkh which evexy Biblical schoku* 
is £uniliar. There are points on which 
Meyer, Philippi, and Olshausen may 
be consultod with equal advantage ; but 
there is, at the same time, much that 
is peculiar to Qodet~**the expreision of 
the man's own life — and this is the part 
on which we place the highest store. 



He is in 9ympatlij with the best features 
of modern thought, but is not thereby 
rendered dissatisfied with the principles 
of Evangelical orthodoxy. Calvimst 
and Arminian will alike find his ex- 
position suggestive, and perhaps there 
are no criticisms in the course of it more 
effective than those which refute the 
vague and inconsequential reasonings 
of men like Canon Farrar, whose '' Life 
and Work of St Paul " has evidently 
been closely studied, and kept more or 
less in view throughout The dogmatic, 
the ethical, and the apologetic worth 
of the Epistle to the Romans could 
not be more beautifully illustrated than 
they are here ; and Gbdet has anew 
demonstrated the fact that a powerful 
and healthy Christianity, with which the 
world cannot dispense, has never been 
developed except on the lines traced 
by St PauL The whole book is a fine 
exemplification of its closing paragraph : 
''The New Testament contains two 
writings which admirably complete 
one another — the Epistle to the Bomans 
and the Fourth Gospel. The one pre- 
sents for our contemplation the object 
of fEdth in its grandeur and perfect 
beauty — ^the imion of man with Qod 
realised in One, in order to be at length 
realised in Him, in all ; the other 
initiates us into the means of appre- 
hending the salvation thus realised in 
One for all, and of appropriating it : 
the act of iiEdth. There, the ideal 
realised, shining as on a celestial sum- 
mit ; here, the arduous pathway by 
which sinful man may succeed in 
reaching it Let the Church constantly 
possess herself of the Christ of John by 
means of the faith of Paul, and she will 
be preserved, not from persecution, but 
from a more terrible enemy — death." 

The first volume of Domer's '^ System 
of Doctrine " we noticed at some length. 

The second is occupied with investiga- 
tions into the Scripture doctrines of 
man, of his relation to God, and finally 
of sin and salvation. This takes the 
author over ground of the first moment 
in theological and ethical science. It 
brings into prominence questions which 
relate to the nature, the necessity, and 
the form of revelation, and, therefore, 
of the possibility of the miraculous. It 
is, however, in the discussion of the 
Biblical doctrine of sin that the strength 
of this volume lies. The treatment, 
which is, from first to last, a fearless 
applicationof the principles and methods 
of the inductive philosophy in deter- 
mining the exact force of Scripture and 
the phenomena of hmnan life, is par- 
ticularly full and satisfactory. Domer's 
primary aim is to ascertain the teach- 
ing of the Divine Revelation as to the 
source, the developments, and the results 
of sin ; then to show how this teaching 
harmonises both with the consciousness 
of individual men and the history of 
the world at large. The ecclesiastical 
doctrine, in the various stages of its 
progress, is distinctly defined, and we 
are enabled, without difficulty, to com- 
pare the conceptions of the greatest 
thinkers on this momentous theme. 
Domer discusses it with a becoming 
sense of its gravity and of the vast and 
far-reaching issues depending upon it, 
and, though he is not in any sense a 
homilist, he has furnished matter which, 
in popularised forms, would bring con- 
viction home to the hearts of multitudes 
who could not master his treatise, and 
there is not a pulpit in the land whose 
occupant would not preach more power- 
fully and impresdvely by pondering 
Domer's elucidation of this solemn fact 
which necessitated ''Our redemption 
through Christ's blood." 



Th£ Pulpit Cohhbntary. Joshua. 
Second EditioiL London: C. Kogan 
Paul & Co., 1, Paternoster Square. 

This additional instalment of the great 
Commentary under the able editorship 
of the Rev. Canon Spence and the Rev. 
J. S. Exell, is worthy of a hearty 
irelcome and an attentive study on the 
part of all who are engaged in the 
momentous work of expounding Holy 
Scripture and of preaching the QospeL 
It is difficult to account for the fact 
which the author of the admirable 
'* Introduction to the Book of Joshua " 
before us notices, viz., that that Book 
"does not seem to have been a favourite 
one for homiletic treatment That it 
is capable of such treatment in a very 
effective manner is conclusively shown 
by the excellent homilies which have 
been founded upon it for this noble 
volume. We presume that these homi- 
lies have been used in the pulpit by the 
various preachers who have supplied 
them, and we can imagine that they 
must have been invested with the un- 
wearied interest of real instructiveness 
to any congregation £airly trained to 
religious thought The names of their 
nnthoTS are a sufficient guarantee for 
varied knowledge, discriminative think- 
ing, spiritual earnestness, and pulpit 
eloquence of a high order — the Rev. E. 
de Piessens^, D.D., J. Waite, B.A., R. 
Glover, W. F. Adeny, B.A., and S. R. 
Alridge, LL.B., B.A. All these preachers 
are celebrated in one way or another, 
and their celebrity will be increased by 
their admirable contributions to this 
important work. Two of them — Mr. 
Glover and Mr. Aldridge — are eminent 
in our own denomination ; and here, 
as elsewhere, they show themselves to 
be '^ workmen needing not to be 
uhamed, rightly dividing the Word of 

Truth." The expository pai-t of the 
work was entrusted to the Rev. J. J. 
Lias, M.A., Vicar of St Edward's, Cam- 
bridge, and late Lecturer in Hebrew at 
Lampeter College, and his expositions 
are very helpful in the study of the 
text He also contributes largely to 
the homiletics of the book, and supplies 
an elaborate Introduction, in which all 
the more important questions relating 
to it are learnedly discussed, and are 
solved (so far as they can be solved at 
all) with a soundness of criticism which 
leaves nothing to be desired. The 
volume is further enriched by an in- 
valuable Introduction to the historical 
books, from Joshua to Nehemiah in- 
clusive, from the Rev. A. Plummer, 
M.A., Master of University College 
Durham. Such labours as these cannot 
be too highly appreciated. 

The Homiletic Quarterly. April, 
1881. C. Kegan Paul & Co. 

The space at our command forbids any 
minute mention of the immensely 
varied contents of this excellent number 
of the serial under the vigorous editor- 
ship of the Rev. J. S. Exell. Still less 
are we able to describe them as they 
deserve, and to apportion the meed of 
piaise to which the several parts are 
entitled. We have sermonic outlines 
suited to Good Friday, Easter, Ascen- 
sion, and Whitountide. and many other 
subjects of high interest at any period, 
by well-known and able preachers ; 
expositions of many parts of Scripture, 
by superior Biblical scholars ; a capital 
children's sermon (" A Sea of Glory," 
Hab. ii. 14), by Dr. Edmond ; " The 
Incarnation : a Testimony," by Dr. G. D ' 
Boardman ; and a continuation of the 



"Clerical Sympositun" cm the Loid's 
Supper, in which the various views of 
that important institution are ably set 
forth. Amongst the hest helps provided 
for tiie modem pulpit, the HomiUHc 
QvMfierhf still retedns a foremost pla<^ 

HoUBB WTTB THB BiBUB ; or, the 
Scriptoiee in the Sight of Modem 
Discovery and Knowledge. From 
Moae9 to the JttdgeB. By Cunnings 
ham Qeilde^ D J). With Ulustra- 
tiona London : S. W. Paztcidge 
& Cob, 9, Paternoster Bow. 

Thb unqualified recommendation which 
we gave to the first volume of this 
great work would be equally applicable 
to the second. Dr. Qeikie lays his 
encydopffidic information under tribute 
for the illustration of the sacred history 
which he reviews, and so uses it as to 
light up the events which have been 
Divinely recorded with a transparency 
and a brilliancy which it would be 
impossible for them otherwise to possess. 
To a mind charged with so immense 
a mass of apposite knowledge as Dr. 
Geikie's mind is, and so master of it as 
to be able to call it forth at the moment 
when it ia wanted, how sublime and 
impressive must the old histories of the 
Word of God be felt to be I The 
grandeur of the Book is Ai^^if^^^*^, the 
conviction of its Divine origin is 
strengthened^ and the heart more 
readily yields to its vitalising and 
ennobling power. It is re&ediing to 
note the contrast between the i^^^^^g 
which ministers tofdth in such voIubmb 
as these and the nibblmg criticism 
which is so miserably characteristic of 
the Bationalistic schooL 

BoBXRT Hall. By the Bev. E. Paxton 
Hood. Hodder & Stoughton. 

This is one of a aeries of popular 
biographies, imder the general title of 
''Men Worth Bemembering," some 
dozen of which are advertised aa 
already published or forthcoming. The- 
name of Bobert Hall is unquestionably 
one of the most brilliant in the list. 
Any mere eulogy of him in the pages 
of the Baptist Maoazists would be 
not only superfluous, but impertinent 
Though he died hal£*a-centnry ag<v 
even the younger members in our 
Baptist churches and families are folly 
aware that he was one of the brightest 
luminaries by which the Baptist de- 
nomination has ever been adorned.. 
They know that for saintlineas and 
eloquence he has never been suzpaaaed. 
He is to be reckoned not only amongst 
men worthy to be remembered, bat 
also amongst those^whose lasting &me 
is sure. Our English Christianity nuiat 
sttbsidei and our English language die^. 
before Bobert Hall can be foigotten. 
This being so>we are not surprised that 
the story of his life should now be 
newly told. We have our doubts as 
to whether Mr. Paxton Hood was the 
writer most fitted for the taiak. His 
thinking ii discursive, and his style 
chatty and looee-^^oalittea at the 
antipodes of those which ao greatly 
contributed to Mr. Hall^ almost un^ 
rivalled greatness as a writer and pulpit 
orator. Nevertheless, Mr. Hood has 
compiled the biographical fe^ets with 
fair accuracy, and ventured upon some 
analysis of Mr. Hall's duttaoter and 
genius which will be read with interest^. 
and with seme measure of approval 
even by the comparatively few persons 
yet living who personidly knew tiie 



great pteaeiMr and enthusiastically 
adndred Imn ; whilst the popular style 
of the iroriky and the anecdotes which 
spaiUe in its peges, will make it 
welcame to the younger generation to 
whom Robot HaU is entirely a celebrity 

in fllostiation, with frequent qnaint- 
nesaes of expression whieh gire piquancy 
to their teachi^g^ and keep the interest 
of the auditor or reader wide awake. 

ScoDxaa zv tHB Acts <» TRB Afoivlib. 
'Bif the Ber. J. Gynddylan Jones, 
Caidiff. London : Hoobfcon & Sons, 
Plitetnoster Square. 

Srcnzss is ths Qospsl aoc^iujiho to 
St. Matthew. By the Same Author. 
London : Hamilton^ Adams, & Co., 
S^ Paternoster Kow; Houlston & 
Sons, Paternoster Square; B» D. 
Dickinson, 89, Farringdon Street; 
Bible Christian Book Boom, 26, 
Paternoster Bow. 

Tn results of Mr. Jones's ^Studies" 
in these two books of the New Testa- 
ment appear before us in the form of 
sermons, which, we presume, have been 
spoken from the pulpit They are very 
good sermons to read, and, if well 
deliyered, must have been very good to 
hear. We have placed them in the 
order of their publication. The first 
volume contains fifteen discourses, and 
the second seventeen. We do not know 
to what denomination the atithor be- 
longs. In descanting upon the cases 
of the eunuch and L3rdia, he had to 
touch upon the subject of baptism, but 
we do not find anything distinctively 
PsBdobaptist in his utterances. Some 
of his remarics, indeed, would seem to 
lean slightly in the opposite direction. 
We have reuL these sermons with un- 
usual gratificatiou. They are perfectly 
Evangelical, vigorous, and often original 
in thought, robust in sentiment, vivid 

Ths Child's Lirx of Ckbibt. With 
original Dlustrationa. Parts 6 and 
7. CasseU, Fetter, Qalpitt, & Go. 

Thssk two ports of this most charming 
work conduct the reader from the 
ministry of John the Baptist to the 
interview of our Lord with the woman 
of Samaria. There is a great deal of 
explanatory and highly useful informa- 
tion slipped quietly and easily into the 
course of the narrative, which still 
retains all the elements of perfect 
adaptation to the child-mind which we 
have noticed with so much pleasure in 
the preceding parts. We hope to be 
forgiven for saying that the work would 
have lost nothing that was worth keep- 
ing if the hideous picture of the Bap- 
tism of Christ had been withdrawn. 
Our Lord is represented as kneeling 
with one knee in the shallow of the 
Jordan, and bending his head slightly 
forward to receive a few drops of water 
upon it from the Baptist's hands I We 
thought this error had been finally and 
for ever exploded. 

Ward & Lock's UanvxBSAL In* 
STBUCTOR. Parts 6 and 7. London : 
Ward, Lock, & C04 

Wb are amazed at the mass of know- 
ledge in rdation to all matters which 
have to do with the culture of the 
mind which this marvellously cheap 
publication brings within the reach of 
aU who are able to read, think, remem* 



ber, and learn. We have cxpiessed our 
unqualified admiration of it before, and 
we rejoice in the opportunity of doing 
fio again. It ought to circulate by 
hundreds of thousands. 

A Translation op thb Anglo-Saxon 
Version of St. Mark's Gospel. 
With Prefece and Notes. By the 
Bey. H. C. Leonard, M.A. London : 
James Clarke & Co., 13 and 14, Fleet 

A vert timely and most welcome 
publication. Our brother has done his 
work in a reverent, tender, and loving 
spirit, as was most fitting. The PrefSEwe 
not only revives the beautiful story of 
the death of the Venerable Bede, but 
contains Bome interesting facts respect- 
ing the Anglo-Saxon version of the 
Gospels, and shows the points in which 
it differed from our modem translations. 
It is very pleasant to be able to derive 
from this old version of Mark's Gospel 
so clear '^ an idea of the Bible, as read 
by our ancestors during a period of 
-nearly five centuries." The notes are 
philologically valuable. Mr. Leonard 
has our best thanks for this charming 
little contribution to our Biblical 

China's Millions. Edited by J. 
Hudson Taylor, M.R.C.S., &c, &c. 
London : Morgan & Scott, 12, Pater- 
noster Buildings. 1880. 

We have frequently had occasion to 
commend this valuable periodical, not 
only for the interesting account it gives 
of the work of the ''China Inland 
JliBsion," but for the insight it affords 

into the social and religious condition 
of the people. Its information is un- 
osually minute, so that it enables lu, as 
for ourselves, to see the strange life of 
the flowery land, and to feel how 
deeply, how urgently, they need the 
Gospel of Jesus Christ to elevate and 
save them. 

A Lecture on the Ihfreoatoby 
Psalms. With Notes. By John 
Stock, LL.D., Huddersfield. London : 
Elliot Stock, 62, Paternoster Bow. 

The question raised in this Lecture is 
large and complicated, and for exhaus- 
tive treatment requires much more exten- 
sive space. But Dr. Stock has clearly kid 
down the lines along which the wisest 
Christian teachers wHl proceed, and has 
effectually broken the force of the 
sceptical argument which seeks to dis- 
credit the Imprecatory Psalms as in- 
tegral parts of the Divine Word. He 
has also shown how unreasonable aad 
nuschievous is the tendency of the 
present age to merge " the Judge of all 
the earth into a Father who is too weak 
to punish even those who defy both law 
and Gospel.'' 

The Inductive Method op Reabok- 
ING reduced to a Ststem. a Lec- 
ture. By Thomas Crow. London: 
Kempster & Co., St Bride's Avenue, 
Fleet Street 
A GOOD popular exposition of an 
abstruse subject If the author had, 
however, consulted Mr. White's author- 
ised issue of his lectures on ''The Kew 
Testament Tone of Certainty," &c, he 
would have withdrawn tJie criticism oo 
p. 29. 



JULY, 1881. 

$r. ^rutt's itto Moxk an '%ls^ C^f 6n^of gebtlotion." 

|'£ have recently noticed in this Magazine Dr. Brace's great 
work, entitled "The Humiliation of Christ/' and now 
we have to introduce to those of onr readers who may 
|l ^ not have seen it, another important volume from the same 
masterly pen. It is impossible to condense into the very 
limited space at our command the teaching of the admirable 
book before us, with the arguments by which that teaching is 
enforced. The subject is a large one, and Dr. Bruce has treated it 
comprehensively, if not exhaustively. " Two convictions," he tells us, 
"have been ruling motives in this study. One is, that in many 
Inspects the old lines of apologetic argument no longer suffice either 
to express the thoughts of faith or to meet successfully the assaults 
of unbelief. The other is, that the Church is not likely again to 
wield the influence which of right belongs to her as custodian of the 
precious treasure of Christian truth, imless she show herself possessed 
of vitality sufficient to originate a new development in all directions, 
and among others in doctrine, refusing to accept as her final position 
either theagnosticism of modem culture or blindadherence to traditional 
dogmatism." It must not be supposed from this intimation that our 
author is inclined to make any dangerous concessions to the f ree- 

* The Chief End of Btfodation. By Alexander Baldman Brace, D.D., Professor of 
Apologetics and New Testament Ex^esisi Free Church Coll^^e, Glasgow. Hodder 
and Stoaghton. 1881. Fixst Notice. 


290 Dr. Bruc^s New Work an ** The Chief End of Revelatimy 

thinking spirit of the age, or that he has departed from any of the 
great truths which lie at the centre of our time-honoured Christianity. 
On the contrary, what we mean by the Gospel finds in him one of its 
most intelligent, uncompromising, and effective champions. 

He begins his work by clearing away certain misconceptions which 
have arisen in relation to tiie matt^ in hand. 

" These misconceptions fall into two general classes. First, there are those who 
take a theoretical or doctrinaire view of revelation, and next there are those 
who go to the opposite extreme and take an exclusively practical or ethical view 
of the same subject. This classification does not resolve itself into a distinctioii 
between the views of believers and those of unbelievers respectively ; on thecon- 
traiy, believers and unbelievers, or free-thinkers, may be found on the same side." 

The former class are dealt with first, and they are described as 
holding '* iii^t Beodation is to be identified with the BibU^ and that 
the Bible was given by God to men for the purpose of communicating 
doctrinal instruction on certain topics of importance." The Jewish 
Kaibalists, " by an arbitrary and grotesque system of interpretation, 
converted the Old Testament into a book of science, philosophy, and 
magic, as well as a book of moral law and religion.*' We see a 
similar mistake, though in '' milder" form, amongst those " who have 
been of opinion that the Sacred Book, though not meant principally 
to teach the science of nature, yet contains latent in its pages 
important scientific hints, and always expresses itself in refbrence to 
natural phenomena with scientific accuracy.'' A curious instance of 
this is adduced in a recent American work by Mr. R W. Wright, 
entitled, " Life : its true Genesis," in which the theory is propounded 
that " in the earth there are vital germs (not ordinary seeds) of all 
plants, and that whenever the necessary conditions come into 
existence, these germs manifest their presence in the earth by sending 
forth a crop of vegetation" — a theory which is alleged not only to be 
consistent with natural facts, but also to be supported by the Hfebrew 
words in the first chapter of Grenesis, rendered' in the English version, 
whose seed is in itself upon the earth," but which Mr. Wright renders : 
whose germinal principle of life, each in itself after its kind, is upon 
the earth," i.e., " a germinal principle existing in the earth antecedent 
to all plant life, created there by the Divine Spirit, not the popular 
ideactf seed produced first by plantSi and from which in turn plants 
are made to grow by t^e fertilimiig influeneeof the«cil.^ Dn Brace 
does not pause to combat the theory, but he finds so* Kint-of ' it in the 


Dr. Bruas New Work an " The. Chief End of Revelation:' 291 

words quoted from Genesis. What then ? If the theory he true, 
the woirfk in Grenesis would not be discredited, inasmuch as thejr only 
^3sert '* tlie familiar fact that plants spring from seeds deposited in 
the ground/' If the theory be false, the authority of the sacred 
writer will not be compromised, inasmuch as, in relation to the phe- 
nomena of nature, " Scripture uniformly speaks, not in scientific or 
philosophic, but in popular language." Our author considers that it is 
only a lighter mistake of the same kind to use the Bible " as a quarry 
of proof -texts for an elaborate system of doctrine." The evil of this 
is seen in the fact that it tends to the treatment of that mass of 
Biblical material which " cannot be utilised in that way " as compara- 
tively unimportant, whilst even that which can be so utilised is 
*' likely in the hands of the dogmatic theologian to lose its living 
characteristics, and to be transformed into a dead thing." The utility 
of systematic theology, indeed, is not denied. " Revelation has a 
doctrinal significance;" but this should be developed in such a way 
as to keep the chief end of revelation in view, and to " make the whole 
system revolve round it as a centre/* Other vices of the doctrinaire 
treatment of the Bible are pointed out, in its non-recognition of the 
progressiveness of revelation, and of the relative importance of 
revealed truths. — Many who have rejected the Bible have fallen into 
precisely the same mistake as to the supreme purpose for which it 
has been given. " The dogmatic conception of Eevelation has been 
retained," though " the dogmas " have been " given up/* To such 
the idea of Eevelation is "exclusively pedagogic/' The Bible is 
r^rded as consisting of " two lesson-books, which the pupil out- 
grows one after the other. He learns his lessons about the unity of 
God, the moral law, and the life to come, and goes his way, and 
thinks no more about the primer and the second book." This is the 
natural result upon such minds. 

"Bat, suppose that revelation consisted in something much higher than moral 
^ucation, even in the manifestation of a redemptive parpoee, in the exhibition 
to our faith of God as the God of grace^so supplying not only knowledge of duty, 
hut power to become sons of God ; and suppose that in the Bible we have the 
i^Bcord of such a manifestation and exhibition, could we then think of outgrowing 
the holy writings as worn-out school-books ? As well might we think of out- 
growing the sun ; for Christ is the Sun of our souls, because He is the Saviour of 
our souls, and no one who recognises in Him the Redeemer wiU eves dream of 
^ possibility of His being superseded. Nor will the Book which bears witoeit 
to His redeeming love ever lose its interest| or its value, as^an atmofphere thnn^ 

292 Dr. Brucis New Work on *^ The Chief End of Reoelatum:\ 

which the lays of the spiiitnal Son are diffiiaed abroad over the world. Only 
such as think of ChriBt as merely a Teacher, and of Chiistianity as a system of 
ideas, will imagine that they can now dispcaue with both Christ and the New 
Testament Even they are mistaken in their iimcy. They are not so independ- 
ent as they think. Some Christian light may, indeed, remain, in their minds 
after they have thrown Christ and the Gospel aside ; it is, however, bat as the 
twilight which remains in the sky after the sun has gone down, destined to iade 
into darkness." 

The writings of Leasing, Beimaros of Hamburg, and Mr. Gr%, the 
author of " The Creed of Chnstendom," are adduced and discussed 
as examples of the misconception of " the chief end of revelation '' 
under review in the first part of the opening chapter. The second 
part deals with another misconception of an opposite kind — that which 
is found in " the purely practical or ethical view," which is " so much 
in favour at the present time," and which is historically traced to 
Spinoza in the seventeenth century. Bepelled by the religious contro- 
versies of his own and of past days, Spinoza judged that they arose 
from " an illegitimate use of Scripture as an authority in matters of 
philosophical and theological opinion in which reason should be left 
to its liberty." 

'' Men were fiercely wrangling about predestination and election, the depiaTity 
of human nature, irresistible grace, and the like topics. What if the Bible was 
never intended to settle such questions ; what if the opinions it contains bearing- 
thereon be not even mutually consistent, and are to be taken simply for what they 
are worth, as the personal opinions of the particular writers speaking according to 
the best light they possessed ? " 

From this standpoint Spinoza examined the Bible a&esh, and on 
a great variety of questions " arrived at conclusions radically diverse 
from those current in the Church." 

'' The authority of the prophets, he found, had weight only in those things 
which bear on life and morals ; their opinions no way concern us. These 
Hebrew prophets, on an examination of their history and writings, appeared to 
be men of singular virtue, who cultivated piety with great devoutness. . . ^ 
Their chief intellectual gift was a lively imagination. . . . All that we can leam 
from them is what bears on the fear of God or obedience ; in reference to all 
else, for anything the prophets teach, we may believe what we please. . . • 
The apostles wrote as doctors, not as prophets supporting their statements on a 
' Thus saith the Lord,' and they differed from each other in their views. They are 
not to be blamed for mixing up religion with speculation, for the Gospel was 
new, and they were obliged to gain for it access to men's minds by accom- 
modating themselves to contemporary thought But we may now disregard 
Pltul's philosophy and theology, and attend only to the few dementaiy truths in 

Dr. Bruce s New Work on " The Chief Etid of RtvelaHmr 193 

the teaching of which prophets, apoeUes, and Chiist axe all at one. These truths 
Spinoia prononnced to be neither more nor less than the doctrines of natmal 
xetigion, which the nmch-decried reason teaches us by its own light" 

Thus the chief, if not the only, value of the Bible is found in the 
ethical spirit which pervades it ! Whatever it contains beyond that 
is of little worth I Kant and Fichte, in the next century, followed in 
the wake of Spinoza as " conspicuous advocates of the doctrine that 
the proper subject of all revelation is lwa>r In the teaching of the 
former, the " law " was " statutory," consisting simply of positive pre- 
cepts. In that of the latter, it was " moral" " Fichte defined the 
idea of revelation as the idea of an appearance produced by the 
Divine causality in the world of sense, whereby Grod makes Himself 
known as moral Legislator." Mr. Matthew Arnold, an obvious 
disciple of Spinoza, takes virtually the same standpoint, inasmuch as 
he contends that the function of the Bible is, " not to teach doctrines 
about God and other transcendental topics, but to set forth the 
supreme value of right conduct." In contradistinction to all these 
various interpreters, Dr. Bruce urges that, whilst the Bible sets forth 
true doctrine on the one hand and pure ethics on the other, it has 
another and higher object in view. 

What is that object? To answer this question rightly, it is 
necessaiy to recognise the distinction between Bevelation and Scrip- 
ture. Scripture is "the record, interpretation, and reflection" of 
Hevelation. It is advantageous in many respects to keep this dis- 
tinction in mind, and specially in this, that room is thus secured for 
" the idea that possibly the revelation which Grod has made to man 
consisted, not in words exclusively, or even chiefly, but in deeds as 
well — ^yea, in deeds above all, forming, when connected together, a 
very remarkable history. . . . A book is not necessary to the being 
of a revelation ; it may be necessary to its well-being — ^that is, to 
insure that the revelation shall accomplish the ends for which it was 
^ven ; " but Bevelation " signifies God manifesting Himself in the 
history of the world in a supernatural manner, and for a special pur- 
pose " — manifesting Himself in a manner superior to that which is 
<liscernible in Nature and in the ordinary course of Providence. ** I 
believe," says Dr. Bruce, " that we have the record of such a special 
revelation in the Bible, and the question I have undertaken to discuss 
is, What is its nature and design ? " 

*To that question my leply S& : The revelation recorded in the Scriptures is 

294 2>r. Bmciz Nem Work an " The Chief End of RtotltOwny 

befoM all'lhiiigs a «e(Kf-iiuaufcBfeatioiii of Qod «« tiie God of ^«ce. In that 
MvdMlLoii Qod appeun as One who cfaerukes a gfaooua pnipose 1»V8id8 tbe 
human race. The MVidatioii oonnrts not in 'the- mere mtknattoa of the puipove^ 
but more espedallj in the slow, but steadfiEiBt, execulion of it by « connected series 
of transactions, which all point in one direction, and at length reach their goal 
in tiie realisation of the end contemplated from the first . . .' The word 'grace' 
• . . is here uaed in a vecy simple, intelligible sense, winch can ^ eattly defined 
YFf\9, £azm of expreisiooi HUftithetieBl to that eaaployed by Mr. Arnold to ^fine his- 
idea of Ck>d. Mr. AmcJd desciibes God «a *a Power, not ouradTts, makiBg for 
tighteonaness.' Wlien we speak of God as a God of grace, we mean to repzesent 
Him as a Power, not ourselyes, making for mercy ; a Power that d£aleth not with 
men after their sins, but overcometh evil with good ; a Power acting as a 
xedeeming, healing influence on the moral and spiritual disease of the world. 
TUs is sorely a Ood«>wprtiiy zepivtentation. Giace, so deflated, is indeed the 
highert caAegoxy under whdcdii we can think of God. It xism as anueh above 
righteouauess as x^teonanAsa rises above the cat^osy under which natural 
religion conceives of God,, that, Tiz^.of Might directed by intelligence. A God 
of righteousness is certainly a great advance on a God of mere power ; yet it \& 
only a step upwards towards a higher idea of God, in which the Divine Being 
becomes self^communicating, redeeming love. €k)d cannot be'said to have fillip 
zevealed Himself till He has been laveadod in this aspect" 

The need of such a revelation, as seen in the moral conditixm of the 
world, is obvious ; to none but an atheist ought it to seem incredible. 
Phflosophic naturalism is, of course, antagonistic to it. Celsus 
taaght that '' moral ^vil springs from a necessity of nature, having its 
origin in matter, and its amount constant and invariable. . . . That 
wMch has been shall be. The present state of things will reproduce 
itself in some future ceon.'' The modem pessimist sees no forces at 
vrork exoq^t those which tend to an ever-deepening degeneracy; 
wfailBt the optimist ooniriders such moral improvements as manis^ 
capable of to be nothing more than '* the result of the upward tendency 
of all 0urrotinding cosmic influences/' Granting, however, that there 
Is a God, and that man is a moral personality, and that consequently 
he is the possessor of a free will, we can discern the credibility as 
well as the grandeur of tjie idea of a redemption which shall spring 
'^<mt of influences wliich can be traced up to God as their source/' 
and which shall '^ act on man's reason, and will, and better indina- 
tions." Some of these influences are acknowledged in the partial and 
imperfect theories of such writers as Sohleiermacher, Mr. Eathbone 
Greg, and Miss Oobbe ; but our author finds them all to be focnssed 
in the incarnate life of the Son of God, and in Uie Atonement which 
He completed on the Cross. 

Dr. BrtiU's Nm Work an *' The Cku/ End of Revelatum." 295 

At this point the question arises : " Does the literature of the 
Bible, on thooghtful perusal, convey the impression that its contents 
diiefly relate to n pn rp » s$ of grace, and that its great \ratchword is 
red4mpiion? " An answer to this question is first sought in the New 
Testament. Clnrist did not simply teach, as Mr. Arnold alleges that 
He did, that liappiness is to be sought from within, and not from 
without, and that self«-denial is essential to it ; He also taught that 
Hie Himself was the great spiritual Healer; and the Kingdom which 
He proelainied was '' a Kingdom of Grace, open to all on condition of 
faith ^oxd repea:itance — a Kingdom whose advent was good news, and 
which was itself the summim^ bonum, because therein God, in His 
Patermal Benignity, admitted men freely forgiven to unrestricted 
feUowaihip with Himself, and so united them in fraternal bonds to 
each other as members of a holy commonwealth." Faul has much 
to say of righteousness ; '* but righteousness in his pages is ireally a 
synonym for grace. The righteousness of the Pauline epistles is 
Tisually, though not invariably, an objective righteousness, not in us, 
but hovering over us, a gift of Divine grace, the righteousness of God 
giveu to faith." It was the habit of the ordinary Jew to think 
mostly of Law ; " the chief thing which Paul found " in the Old 
Testament — " the kemal or hidden treasure of the Hebrew Scriptures 
was the revelation of the Promise." Was Paul mistaken in tliis ? 
"Did he read into the Old Testament a system of ideas not really 
there, revealed to his mind, not by legitimate exegesis, but by a 
peculiar religious experience ? " Apparently the latter ; but 

'^ We must distinguish between the Diyine end of the law and the end which 
was present to the minds of the instruments of revelation— e.y., Moses. From the 
point of view of Divine teleokgy, the Apostle's doctrine of the law is nnassailable. 
The ultimate result reveals the initial Diyine intention, so that we may say that 
what Qod had in view from the first was the promise, and that the law entered 
to prepare men for tlie reception of the pronused blessing, by a varied discipline, 
to be a pedagogue, a gaoler, a tutor, a rough husband, to make ChriBt and the era 
of grace, liberty, and love welcome. The law was a lower stage in the develop- 
ment of humanity, preparing for a higher, in presence of which it loses its rights, 
though the good that was in it is taken up into the higher, and united to the 
hxitial stage of the promise to which it stood in opposition.'' 

Thus, though we naturally find the legal spirit in the litesature of 
the Old Covenant as *' the child's thoughts during the period of tutors 
and governors are tinged by the discipline under which he lives/' yet 
' it f^tiU remains true that the key-note of tlie Old Testament is grace. 

296 Dr. Bruce's New Work on " The Chief End 0/ Revelation:' 

and that the deepest current of thought runs in the direction of trast 
in God as the Sedeemer. . . . So far is l^al righteousness &om 
being the deepest thought of the Old Testament writers, that the word 
righteousness is often used by them, as by Paul, as a synonym for 
grace, or for God's faithfulness in keeping His promise. • • . Israel is 
regarded as elected to be a missionary people to spread the know- 
ledge of the true God among the nations, and so to make her God the 
ground of her claim to the gratitude and respect of mankind. This is 
only what we should expect; for a religion of grace recognises no 
claim in any man or people to Divine favour as matter of right, and, 
therefore, consistently puts all men and nations on the same level" 
Israel was an elect race in order that it might be '' the vehicle through 
which God conveys His grace to all others ; " and the election is 
merely " a method by which God uses the few to bless the many." 

'' In a sense it may be said that the Bible begins with the call of Abraham, all 
that goes before, the first eleven chapters of Genesis, being a preface intended to 
convey a general idea of the state of the world when the progenitor of Isiael 
came upon the scene. Tet here, at the very starting-point of the history, in the 
long course of which the gracious purpose of the self-revealing God was to be 
slowly evolved, we find the nature of the purpose made known with a degree of 
clearness approaching that with which it shines in the pages of the prophets.'' 

Naturalist critics explain this by the supposition that " the pro- 
phetic ideas of God and of Israel's destiny are in the history of 
Abraham, because the prophets put them there." The gratuitousness 
of this supposition is carefully exposed by our author. Surely it was 
possible for Abraham to exhibit " the blossom of which the prophetic 

idea was the ripe fruit." Besides, 

"At no stage in the history of revelation is it necessary to assume a fiill 
understanding or consciousness, on the part of the instruments of revelation, 
of the purposes for which God was using them ; and least of all is this probable 
in the initial stage. It is distinctly indicated in the New Testament that the 
prophets did not fully understand the meaning of their own prophecies; and 
we may well believe that Abraham did not possess perfect insight into the signi- 
ficance of the impulses that were at work in his soul. . . Yet let us not 
imagine, on this account, that revelation had not yet begim to show itself in its 
distinctive character as a revelation of grace. The flower, though not the fruitage, 
of grace appeared in the patriarchal revelation. And, ad the flower is a prophecy 
of the fruit) it may be said that in the flower Abraham saw unconsciously the 
fruit) Christ's day, and rejoiced in it There was' grace in all Qod'a dealings 
with Abraham. It was an act of grace to show him the falsity of the prevailing 
religion, and to reveal to him the pure truth of natural religion, the worship of 
God the Creator and Moral Governor. It was a further act of grace to separate 

Dr. Bruc^s New Work on " The Chief End of Rtvelationr 297 


liim from liis people, that he might foi^et old ciistomB and, as a stranger in a 
strange land, worship the true Qod. There woa grace also in the promise of a 
seed, and of a land in which they should dwell as, in a peculiar sense, a people of 
God The covenant by which God appropriated Abraham's seed as His 
people, and gave Himself to them to be specially their God, was a covenant 
of grace. The lesson on sacrifice was also a remarkable manifestation of 
grace, for, while it negatively revealed the humanity of the Divine character, 
it positively revealed God's delight in self-sacrifice, and thus brought 
to light poasibilities of sacrifice for God Himself which one could hardly 
dsre to regard even, as possibilities until they had actually been realised. 
The Divine oath uttered on the occasion, as a passionate expression of 
the admiratioii awakened by the sublime spectacle presented by the 
patriarch ofiTering up his son, is specially significant as affording a glimpse into 
the inmost spirit of Gk)d. Looking down on the sacrifice, God exclaims : ' As I 
lire, this is a great heroic deed ; it shall not go unrewarded. Out of the son, 
whom this man is willing to part with, shall spring a seed multitudinous as the 
5tar8 or the sand.' He could swear by no greater, therefore He swear by Himself ; 
so, as the writer of the Epistle to the Hebrews finely points out, making Himself 
a Mediator or a middle party between God and Abraham. God swearing made 
Himself, in condescension, inferior to God sworn by. That is, God, in taking an 
oath, did a thing analagous to Qod becoming man. The acts were kindred, being 
hoth acts of condescension and love. In those two acts, as in covenant-making, God 
stoops down from His majesty to the weakness and want and low estate of man. 
In covenant-making God made Himself a debtor to His creatures and gave them 
A right to claim what is in reality a matter of favour. In taking an oath, God 
submitted to indignity imposed by man's distrust, and, instead of standing on His 
truth, put Himself under oath, that there might be an end of doubt or gainsaying. 
In becoming man, God condescended to man's sin, and submitted to be as a sinner 
that sinners might be delivered from moral eviL Grace appears in all these acts 
in an ever-ascending degree." 

The manifestation of Redeeming grace, then, being the great 
purpose of the revelation contained in the Scriptures, what is the 
method in which that revelation has been given, and what is the 
peculiar function sustained by the supernaturalism, in the form of 
*' miracle" and " prophecy," by which it is distinguished ? Dr. Brace's 
answer to these questions, together with his estimate of the true 
doctrinal significance of the great revelation of grace, must be 
reserved for consideration in our next number. Meanwhile, we trust 
that the taste we have given to our readers of the rich repast wliich 
our author has provided will induce them to avail themselves of the 
fidl feast without delay. ^ 



By the Bishop of Gloucester and Bristol* 

HAVE the honour of speaking to your lordships in my 
position as Chairman of the New Testament Company. 
Yet, in so speaking, it is impossible for me to leave 
unnoticed the various public efforts, of which this is tbe 
last, that, for well-nigh 350 years, have had for their object 
the setting forth, in the tongue wherein we were born, the holy and 
inspired words of the written Book of Life. I must, therefore, ask 
your lordships to bear with me while I briefly allude to the various 
stages in the progress of this great work, and especially to the share 
which this House of Convocation has had in aiding and furthering the 
labours of the translators and revisers of the past. That share has 
not been a large one. Convocation, tUl this last revision, has never 
taken any prominent part in reference to the successive translations 
of the Holy Scriptures. Nay^ at times, I fear, it has shown itself 
hostile and reactionary. Still it has its history in reference to the 
English Bible.. We must look back 350 years. Tyndale's veision of 
the New Testament had come over to this kingdom, and had been 
about four years in private, but widespread, circulation. The souls of 
men were profoundly stirred, and the desire to have at length the 
Word of God in our own mother tongue vivid and universaL The 
first public action on the part of the Church was, I grieve, to say, to 
condemn that version, which was the bone and sinew of all that have 
followed it. At a Council held at Westminster, under Archbishop 
Warham, in May, 1530, it was condemned ; but we may be tbankftt 
also to remember that it was agreed that the Archbishop should send 
out a document to be read by all preachers, in which the King's promise 
that the Scriptures should be translated in English was fully set forth. 
Four eventful years then passed away. The King's supremacy was 

^ An address before the Upper House of Convocation of Canterbuiy, May 17th | 
1S81. Reprinted from tbe Guardian, 

The Revision of the New TesiamenL 299 

acknowledged the next year, and the first steps taken for emancipating 
this (xmntryfrom the tyranny of Itome. In 1534 the subject of the 
translation of the Scriptures was renewed, and on the 19th of December 
in that year this Upper House of Convocation agreed that the Arch- 
Inshop should, in the name of the members of the House, *' make 
instance with the King that Holy Scripture should be translated into 
the vulgar tongue." Cranmer at once set about the work. He 
appears to have sent portions of Tyndale's Testament to several 
bishops for review and revision. The bishops, it would seem, all 
retained their revisions ; but, from some cause or other, it miscarried. 
The next year (1535) Coverdale's translation, dedicated to the King, 
stole into this country, and was allowed to circulate, though not 
fonnaUy licensed till 1537. The prayer of Convocation was then still 
before the country. It was not directly granted, but it had this effect, 
that, not more than three years after its being sent to the King, the 
royal lioenoe was given to the second edition of Coverdale's Bible 
and to Bogers' or Matthews' Bible, and that two years later, in 1539, 
tbe Great Bible was published, of which Coverdale was.the sole editor. 

This was an event of great importance, and may be regarded, in a 
certain sense, as the practical answer to the prayer of Convocation 
three years before. Convocation, however, I regret to say, was by no 
means satisfied with the answer, as, very soon afterwards, in February,. 
1542^ it was decided by this House that the Great Bible should be 
revised according to the Bible then in current use, or, in other words^ 
to the Vulgate. Two committees were appointed. The Old Testa- 
ment Committee was presided over by the Archbishop of York ; the 
New Testament Committee by the Bishop of Durham. The matter 
was subsequently referred by the King to the Universities, but, in the 
sequel, it happily fell tlirough. 

A generation then x>as8ed away. The Great Bible had, meanwhile, 
been revised, though in a very different manner from what the Convo- 
cation of 1542 had hoped for and had attempted. It had now passed, 
by the process of a revision performed by several hands, into the 
Bishops' Bible. Tlie Genevan version had also been published, and 
was obtaining so wide a circulation that, in 1571, Convocation made 
a special enactment in favour of what it deemed the more orthodox 
volume — ^the Bishops' Bible. Every bishop was te have a copy in hia 
palace. Cathedrals and, as far as possible, parish chuicheSi were to 
provide themselves with the last authoritative version. 

3O0 The Revision of the New Testameni, 

Somewhere about tliis time there appears to have been some 
thought of a movement in Parliament, aa an undated paper has been 
found among the archives of the House of Lords containing the 
{sketch of a Bill for '' reducing diversities of Bibles, now extant in 
the English tongue, to one settled vulgar translated from the 

Another generation passed away, during the whole of which 
three versions were in practically competitive circulation, the Great 
Bible, the Genevan version, and the Bishops' Bible. In Convoca- 
tion there seems to have been some little reaction in favour of 
the Great Bible; for, in May, 1604, Canon 80 was passed, by 
-which it was provided that every churchwarden was to provide foi* 
•each parish a Bible " amplisdmi voluminis" or, as it would certainly 
seem to imply^ the Great Bible of more than sixty years before. 

But a great and signal change was now very near at hand. In 
the February of the same year (1604) a passing remark of Dr. 
Eeynolds, at the Hampton Court Conference, led the King seriously 
to take up the subject of a revision of the existing translations; 
and, before the Conference broke up, it appeared as one of the 
points desired by the King, and, in fact, carried at his instigation, 
viz., '' That a translation be made of the whole Bible as consonant 
as can be to the original Hebrew and Greek." This was the 
fundamental resolution ; and, as we well know, by the action of the 
King and some unknown, but most competent, advisers, learned men 
were called together, and the great work, which we familiarly know 
by the name of the Authorised Version, was set forth to the Church 
and the world in the year of our Lord 1611. 

In reference to this version, nothing was said or done, either in 
Convocation or Parliament, This revision is to be attributed solely 
•to the King, and to the wise and learned men whom he was provi- 
dentially able to call together for the execution of this great and 
time-honoured work. More than a generation then passed away, 
during which the Authorised Version was steadily growing in public 
favour, and vindicating, year after year, its distinct superiority, not 
only over the Bishops' Bible, but over the popular Genevan Bible. 
And it was, perhaps, owing to this last fact that we find Dr. Lightfoot 
urging, in a sermon preached before the House of Commons in August, 
1645, the desirableness of a revision of the Scriptures — and, 
japparently, with some effect, for, in 1653, a BUI was actually intro- 

The Revision of the New Testament, 30 r 

duced for a new revision, and some preparatory steps were taken. 
Bat the Parliament — ^the Long Parliament — ^was dissolved, and the 
plan entirely fell through. 

For two hundred years all desire for any further revision had 
entirely died out. There were revised portions of Holy Scripture in 
this long interval by individual scholars, but nothing that in any 
degree helped forward the present movement. At the end of tins 
long period, however, it was plain that the desire for a new revision^ 
had revived, and that the subject was beginning to take its place 
among the leading questions of the day. In the year 1856, which 
might be characterised as the germinal year of the present movement. 
Canon Selwyn (ever a true and warm supporter of revision) moved 
in Convocation, and Mr. Heywood, a few months afterwards, moved in 
Parliament, for the appointment of a Boyal Conmiission to consider 
the whole question. The public movements failed ; but a private 
movement made by five clergjrmen (one of whom is the present 
speaker, and another my Bight Eev. brother the Bishop of Salisbury) 
in a great measure succeeded. The publication in the following year 
(1857) of a revised version of the Gospel of St. John by these five- 
clergymen was generally admitted to have established these two posi- 
tions — (1) that a sober and conservative revision of the Holy Scrip- 
ttues might in due time be very hopefully undertaken ; (2) that when 
undertaken it would be, almost beyond doubt, on the principles which 
this little company of scholars had gradually and experimentally felt, 

The tin^e, however, was not then ripe, though the process of 
maturation had commenced. So half a generation passed away. 
Presh critical subsidies were accumulating; new exegetical works 
were multiplying ; and at last the time was ripe, and the great move- 
ment, with which Convocation has been so intimately connected,, 
began in February, 1870, and shortly after assumed an authoritative- 
and practical form. In that month, as your lordships well remember, 
the late Bishop of Winchester moved in this House, and the present 
speaker seconded, a preliminary resolution, which was accepted by 
both Houses, practically unanimously, and acted upon in little mora 
than four months afterwards. An Executive Committee was formed ; 
some forty scholars and divines outside of Convocation were invited 
to take part in the work. Two companies were formed — ^the one for 
the Old Testament and the other for the New — and both at once 

302 The Revision of the Nem Testament 

addressed themselves to their long and responsible work. Soon after* 
wards two conmnttees were formed in Amesrica, and regular and 
systematic communication established between the scholars on this 
aide and on the other side of the Atlantic The Kew Testament 
Conunittee commenced its labours on June 22, 1870, and closed tham 
on November 11, 1880, and the result of those labours is the volume 
which I have had the honour and responsibility of presenting to your 
lordships and the members of the Lower House. 

And here I might, not improperly, close the present address. Yet, 
if I rightly interpret my present duty, and, perhaps, also the wishes 
of your lordships, I ought not to do so on this somewhat memorable 
occasion without saying a few words on the manner in which the 
task committed to us has been done, and on the nature and character- 
istics of the revision. 

In regard to the manner in which the work of revision was carried 
on, I may remind your lordships that it was in accordance with 
rules which had been laid down at the commencement of the work. 
They were &amed with due regard to modem requirements and 
ancient precedents, being in many respects identical with the rules 
prescribed for the Eeviaers of 1611 and the rules which appear to 
have been observed by those who took part in the Bishops' Bible 
fifty years before. These rules were constantly tested, and, I am 
thankful to say (for I was in some meastire responsible for them), 
proved efficient and sufficient to the end. 

1. To introduce as few alterations as possible into the text of the Authonfled 
Version conBistently with faithfalness. 2. To limit, ba far as poniblc^ the 
expression of such alteiations to tile langnage of the Anthorised and eaiiier 
English Versions. 3. Each company to go twice over the portion to be revised, 
once provisionally, the second time finally, and on principles of voting as herein- 
after is provided. 4. That the text to be adopted be that for which the evidence 
is decidedly preponderating ; and that, when the text so adopted differs firom that 
from which the Anthorised Version was made, the alteration b& indicated in the 
moiigin. 5. To make or retain no change in the text on the second fx &ial 
revision by each company, except ttoo-l/ur{2« of those present approve of the same^ 
but on the first revision to decide by simple majorities. 6. In every case of pro- 
posed alteration that may have given rise to discussion, to defer the voting there- 
xipon tOl the next meeting, whensoever the same shall be required by one-liini 
of those present at the meeting, such intended vote to be annooiiecd in tihenoliee 
for the next meeting. 7. To revise the headings of chapters, page% pongrapha, 
italics^ and punctoation. 8. To refer, on the port of each company, whea con- 
sidered desirable, to divines, scholars, and Hterary men, whether at home or 
abroad, for their opinions. 

The Rcoisioti of ihe New Tesiamcnt. 303 

Of those rules, only one was fouud to be superfluous — the rule 
which prescribea that> if required by one-third of the company, the 
voting might be deferred on any difficult or debated question till the 
folbwing day. The object was to prevent. any lingering heat of con- 
troversy frooaa having any inflaence on the tinal decision, and to 
assume a p^ectly calm and, aa far as possible, unbiassed decision. 
The rule, however, waa iiever put in action. By the mercy and 
blessing of God, no occasion ever arose which mailo it in any degree 
necessary. Amidst ceaseless differences of opinion and countless 
divisions, the brotherly feeling and harmony that prevailed among 
us remained unimpaired to the very end, and rendered all such post- 
ponement of the final expression of opinion wholly unnecessary. 

All the rest of these rules, as our Preface will show more fully in 
detail, were very carefully obsei-ved. They were felt by us to pre- 
sent those broad principles upon which I will venture to make a few 
observations, as tending to illustrate that on which I am now speak- 
ing — themonTier in which we have endeavoured to execute our work. 

In the first place, we have felt tliat what was required of us, 
not only in the criticism and the translation, but in all thp 
details of the revision, was to express a corporate and collective 
judgment It is this which distinguishes our work from every 
other revision that has preceded it It has been tlie work of a 
large body of men sitting together and arriving at their results 
after full corporate discussion. This, as we know, was not the 
case with the Bishops' Bible. Our latest historian of the English 
versions of the Bible (Dr. Eadie) reminds us not only that there 
was no oonmltation among tlie Eevisers^ but even no final super- 
vision. We liave no reason for thiiiking that it was otherwise 
with the Grenevan Bible, which, though the work of persons dwelling 
for the tim6 iu tlie same city, does not present any traces of having 
been executed or discussed in common. The first edition, indeed^ 
of the New Testament is known to have been the work of a single 
band. Even in our Authorised Version the work of revision was 
carried on, in the cose of the New Testament, by two separate 
companies that only communicated their results to each other, but 
nevet. discussed them, in common. In the final supervision, which^ 
boivever, lasted only nine^months for the whole Bible, the discus- 
sion waa probably eorporate, but it. was only by a £»nall number, 
'and, from the very nature of the case, was probably more of a 

304 ^^^ Revtsian of the New Testament. 

merely harmonising nature than of a revision, in the troe sense of 
the word In our case it has been utterly different. Beyision and 
supervision have been carried through by the whole company. 
Every detail has been submitted to it ; eveiy decision has emanated 
from it; every judgment rests solely upon its authority. The 
volume now lying on your lordships' table is the result, in every 
part and portion, of united and corporate discussion. 

Not less strictly observed was our second principle-^viz., to ex- 
press that corporate judgment with precision and distinctness. I 
do not think there will be found in the whole volume the faintest 
trace of a rendering which would adjust itself to one or other of 
two competing views of the meaning of the original Greek. Our 
rule was invariably to put in the text the judgment of the majority, 
and that of the minority in the margin, that majority and minoritj 
being of the nature defined in the rules. There is, thus, nowhere 
any uncertain soimd. Nor is there any ground whatever for sup- 
posing, as is sometimes the case in the Authorised Version, that 
the margin is the more correct rendering which, for some reason 
or other, it was not deemed desirable to place in the text. How- 
ever it may be with the Authorised Version, it is certainly not so 
with the Bevised. The text expresses the rendering or decision of 
the majority of the company — ^that which it deliberately preferred ; 
the margin expresses the view of the minority, and is to be so 
regarded by the reader. 

Our third principle was not only to express our corporate judgment 
with deamess, but to do so only after the fullest and most varied 
consideration. There is not a hastily-arrived*at judgment to be found 
in any page of the Bevised Version. When I mention that the work 
has actually gone through seven revisions, I feel that I am justified in 
making this statement. Yes, my lords, seven revisions, all more or 
less thorough and complete. First, the whole of the version committed 
to the company was revised by it, and then transmitted to America. 
It was then revised by the ^American Committee and returned to 
England. It then underwent, in accordance with the rules, a second 
revision in England, and was again transmitted to America. After 
these four revisions, it underwent a fifth revision in England, mainly 
with the view of removing any hardness 'of diction, or of remedying 
any rythmical defects which might have been introduced through the 
various changes which had been imported in the course of this four* 

The Revision of the New Testament, 305 

fold levision* There was yet a sixth, and most important, revision in 
the form of a harmonising review of the whole, thus far, completed 
work. A Greek Concordance of the New Testament was divided into 
fourteen parts. Of these, twelve of the members most constant in 
their attendance each took a part (the chairman taking two), and 
made themselves individually responsible for a close examination of 
all the renderings of the words, each in the portion allotted to him. 
All varieties of rendering were thus brought up before the company, and, 
wheresoever necessary, the judgment of the collective body formally 
taken upon it. Thus there was a sixth revision. And even, in a 
certain sense, a seventh ; for it so happened that one of the two 
portions taken by the chairman contained the article and the relative 
pronouns. This involved on the part of the chairman a careful reading 
through, line by line, of the whole volume, l^is reading revealed several 
inconsistencies in the use of the English relative that had escaped 
notice, and even disclosed a few slight inconsistencies in other words 
or expressions, which had, in some way or other, eluded the vigilance 
of the Sevisers. Wlien I add to this that, throughout all this lengthened 
process, the attendance was most remarkable in regard to numbers 
and punctuality — ^the average attendance during the whole ten years 
and a-half being as high as sixteen out of twenty-four — I think I 
may be justified when I say that the third principle at which we aimed 
—the expression of opinions only after the fullest and most varied 
consideration — was thoroughly and faithfully observed. 

I now pass, in the last place, to a few remarks on the nature and 
characteristics of the version itself. Three characteristics will be 
found on every page — ^thoroughness, loyalty to the Authorised Ver- 
sion, and due recognition of the best judgments of antiquity. 

Our version is certainly thorough — thorough both in regard to the 
text and the rendering. That thoroughness was to be regulated by 
the principle of faithfulness in regard to the translation, and a due 
regard to decidedly preponderating evidence in the case of the Greek 
text, which we regarded as the basis of our rendering. Faithfulness 
and decidedly preponderating evidence are, of course, both of them 
expressions which admit of a great variety of interpretations, and, in 
a numerous body like that of the New Testament Company, were 
certain to receive tiiem. Without troubling your lordships with any 
enameiation of these varying shades of opinion, it may be sufficient 
to mention, as the general result, that the revision, both of the Greek 

3o6 The Revision of the New Testament 

text and of the Authorised Translation, has been thorough, and up ta 
a full standard of correction. It would have been a misfortune if it 
had been oth^wisa A timid revision that had not the nerve to aim 
at comparative finality, but was simply suggestive of a renewal of the 
process when the public mind might be judged to be i^ain ready for 
it, would have had a very unsettling effect, and really would have 
frustrated the very progress so contemplated; for such a kind of 
revision would have been used as a standing argument against any 
revision at all. Moreover, to modify a high standaxd, in some sub- 
sequent review, is a process comparatively easy ; but to elevate a bw 
and tentative standard, in the case of a translation of the New Testa- 
ment, would be foimd, if attempted, to be a work of such peculiar 
difficulty as to be speedily abandoned. No sudi misfortune has 
happened to the Seviaed Yersioru It represents as full a measure of 
correction as is required by fjEtithfiilness, fairly estimated, but net more 
than that. The minor changes by which it is marked are certainly 
numerous, but all have only one common object — ^the setting forth 
with greater cleameas, force, and freshness the language and teaching 
of the Inspired original. Eleven years ago I alarmed your lordships 
by the estimate which I then formed of the amount of change that 
would be needed ; and, I remember, I led my brother of Saliabuiy to 
say that my words would frighten people from one end of the land to 
the other. If that estimate was deemed to be alarming, I fear I may 
alarm your lordships still more when I state the actual results, and 
compare them with what was then anticipated. What I stated as 
the very lowest was six changes for every five verses — one of these 
changes being for critical and textual reasons. What has actually 
taken place is an average for the Gospels of between eight and nise 
changes in every five verses — somewhere about one and a-half (or 
three in every ten verses) being for critical changes. As might be 
expected, the average for the Epistles is still higher. It appears to 
amount to about fifteen changes for every five verses — one and a-half, 
as before, being due to critical changes. 

Yet, with all this thoroughness of revision and numerically high 
standard of correction, the effect to the general hearer or leader will 
hardly be perceptible. This is due to the second characteristie of oar 
version — ^its persistent loyalty to the Authorised Translation. To any 
candid reader nothing will be more patent than this throughout the 
whole volume. Our words in the Preface will show the great rever- 

The Revision of the New TestamenL 307 

ence that we have ever felt for that venerable version, and our 
practice on eveiy page will show how, even when words may have 
been changed, onr reverence has shown itself in such a careful 
assimilation to the tone and rhythm of that marvellous translation 
that the actual amount of change will scarcely ever be felt or recog- 
nised. Sometimes this has been effected by the choice of a word of 
the same rhythmical quality as that which it has displaced ; sometimes 
by a fortunate inversion ; sometimes by the reproduction of a familiar 
and idiomatic turn ; sometimes by the preservation of the cadence 
even when more than one of the words wliich had originally helped 
to make it up had become modified. In a word, our care throughout 
has been, while faithfully carrying out revision wheresoever it might 
seem to be needed, to make the new work and the old so blend 
together that the venerable aspect of the Authorised Version might 
never be lost and its fair proportions never sacrificed to the rigidity 
of a merely pedantic accuracy. 

The third characteristic of the version — due recognition to the best 
judgments of antiquity — ^though not equally patent, will, I hope and 
believe, rarely be looked for in vain. In all more difficult passages, 
we have ever given especial heed to the great early versions, and to 
the voice, whenever it could be heard in the same language as that 
which we were translating, of primitive and patristic antiquity. In 
many of those passages, perhaps, on wliich we may hereafter be most 
severely criticised — as, for instance, in the " Deliver us from the Evil 
One " of the Lord's Prayer — it will be found that we are but repro- 
ducing that which had always been the interpretation of the best and 
earliest writers of the Greek-speaking Primitive Church. We have 
thus sought to tread the old paths as well as the new, and, while 
never neglecting modem scholarship, have never reversed old 
interpretations without such a clear amount of contextual or linguistic 
authority as rendered such a reversal a matter of distinct and indis- 
putable faithfulness. 

But, my lords, I must detain you no longer. Such, in general 

outline, is the revision which I now have the honour of placing before 

you. Whatever may be its faults and shortcomings, it has been done 

faithfully, and it has been done prayerfully. Its pages bear the 

results of long-continued and arduous labours ; but those labours 

would have been as polhing if they had not been hallowed and 

quickened by prayer. Such is the Eevision of 1881 — not unworthy, 


3o8 Love Stronger than Death. 

I trust and believe, to take its place among the great English versions of 
the past ; not, also, without the hope of holding 4 place among them 
of honour, and, perhaps, even of pre-eminence. But these things 
belong to the future. For the present it is enough that I commend 
this volume to the favourable consideration of your lordships, and 
ask for it your fatherly prayers. 

By THE Rev. C. Stanford, D.D. 

HERE Love lives in its strength, it will be stronger than 
Death. It will come down, cast aside state and cere- 
mony, submit to a thousand indignities, stoop to save, 
and '' stand at the door and knock." It will make the 
king become a suppliant to his subject, and the father to 
his child. 

Love to souls is one and the same thing all over the universe. It 
is the same in heaven as on earth — in God as in man. All love is 
humble ; and, because God is the loftiest, He is the lowliest Let us 
not recoil from this as from an irreverent saying ; for, if God were not 
humble. He must have remained for ever a secret. If He had not 
descended with a stoop of infinite humility. He could not have come 
near enough even to the highest angel for that angel to descry, however 
obscurely, the glory of His presence. But if you would know what 
hxmiility can do, study Redeeming Love. Were the native of some 
distant world permitted to visit us, and hear from our lips for the first 
time the story of our faith, he would, it is likely, be overpowered by the 
marvels of Divine humility. " Tell me these things again,** he would 
naturally say, "for surely I have not understood you. Did Chd 
indeed come down to earth f " " Yes," would be the reply ; " we would 
not seek Him, and therefore He sought us. * Hearken unto Me, ye 
proud-hearted/ said the Holy One. ' I bring near My righteousness. 

Ltroe Stronger than Death. 309 

As you will not come to Me, I will come to you/ " " What, comt as 

mant" "Yes:— 

" * The Son of God with glory Btreamed, 
Too bright for us to scan ; 
But we can face the rays that beamed 
From the mild Son of Man.' 

So, to bring the Divine glory within the horizon of our faculties. 
He came * in the likeness of man.' " " Make Himself of no repvia- 
tion t" " Perfectly true ; ' He was despised and rejected of men, a 
Man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.'" "Take the form of a 
servarUt" "Yes, the highest because the lowest; the Master of 
Life took the form of a slave. The Son of Man came into the 
world, not to be the receiver of services, but that He might render 
services to others." " IXe on a cross t " " Yes ; ' He humbled Him- 
self, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross.' " 
''And, after all this, did He indeed ' call you brethren ? '" " Yes ; 
still He was not ashamed to acknowledge us. At His crucifixion 
all created things were ashamed of man; the earth was ashamed, 
and shook to its centre; the sun was ashamed, and hid his face; 
the dead were ashamed, and could not sleep in their graves; but 
Jesus still owned us. Centuries before, looking forward to this 
hour, and living in it, as if it were already the living present, 
' He was not ashamed to call us brethren ' (Psalm xxii., Heb. ii.).* 
"Now," might the spirit-stranger say, "at last I understand His 
words : ' Learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly in heart. ' " 

Though He sits enthroned on the riches of the universe, and the 
clouds are the dust of His feet, His heart is still unchanged ; and 
" we can witness to His praise ; His love is still the same." like the 
sunshine, which falls with magical flicker on pearl and ruby, lance 
and armour in the royal hall, yet overflows the shepherd's home, 
and quivers through the grating of the prisoner's cell ; pours glory 
over the mountain range, flames in playful splendour on the waves, 
floods the noblest scenes with day, yet madces a joy for the insect, 
comes down to the worm, and has a loving glance for the life that 
stirs in the fringes of the wayside grass ; silvers the moss of the marsh 
and the scum of the pool; glistens in the thistle-down; lines the 
shell with crimson fire, and fills the little flower with light ; travels 
millions and millions of miles, past stars, past constellations, and all 
the dread " magnificence of heaven," on purpose to visit the sickly 

310 A Page from a Students Diary. 

weed, to Mss into vividness the sleeping bloom of spring, and to toudi 
the tiniest thing with the gentleness which makes it great ; so does 
the Saviour's love — not deterred by our unworthiness — ^not affected 
by our slights — come down to teach and bless the meanest and the 
lowliest life in the new Creation. He restores the bruised reed ; the 
weakest natures share His visits, and revive beneath His smile. 
<' For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabitetii eternity, 
whose name is holy : ' I dwell in the high and holy place, and with 
Him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revive the spiiit 
of the humble, and to revive the heart of the cantrite ones.' " All 
images fall infinitely short of the reality. " Light," said the sage, "is 
the shadow of God." It is a shadow, and nothing more, of the Divine 
sun of souls. It does but darkly typify the bri^tness of His rays 
and the visits of His condescension. Th&rt is no humility like His 
humilUy,for there is no love like His love. 

% "^W frj^^ ^ Stttirmt's gtarjf- 

! double is the life that many live — 

A dual Instoiy, unlike, distinct 

The coontenanee may shine, the speech be gay, 

While nndemeatJi a hozror holds the soul. 

The outward's only seen and only known, 

The inward lies unspoken and unguessed. 
* * ♦ * * 

O (3od I Thy face, erewhile so bright and real, 

Fades from the world, and the idiole round of Tmth, 

Which seemed complete and sure, has ciacked and gone. 

The mighty base on which I built has rocked 

And rolled into the raging, restless depths. 

And all my pile of thought — ^symmetric, fair — 

In dire confusion falls ; and I who stood, 

Or dreamt I stood, on an eternal base, 

And scornfully defied assaulting powers. 

Am now in helpless weakness tossed upon 

A sunless, starless sea. 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 311 

In vain I dzop 
My anchozs down into Uie dismaL depUis ; 
Still deeper sinking— eyer deeper still — 
They find no hold ; and on the whirling waves 
I'm borne, the sport of each capricious storm. 
And yet, O Lord, I trust that somehow Thou 
Bort rule the winds and waves ; that Thon art in 
The gloomy in loTe beholding ; and that Thon 
Wilt guide me to Thyself again* 

I trust: 
I do not doubt, I darkly, vaguely trust 
Oh 1 take not this away — my only nerve 
Of strength ; but hold me, save me, ere I feil 
From utter hopelessness, and sink into 

The bladcest depth of dark Despair. 

♦ * # * # 

The years have passed, 
And Thon, Lord, hast shown Thy face again. 
When passing through the waters Thou wast near, 
Andy though the waves and billows rolled around 
My head, yet Thou didst hold me up, and guide 
Me to a safe and sunny shore. And now 
My soul reposes in a nobler faith. 
And rests within the eternal calm of Hope. 



**How shall we order the child, and hew shall we do unto him9^-*JllD0ia 


subject is interesting, important, and difficult. lu treat- 
ing it, one would like to have the light which experienced 
teachers could throw upon it. Nothing but experience 
can show you how peculiar some scholars are, and how 
difficult it is to manage them. If you can manage them^ 
joa will find your work with the others easy. 

312 Htnts to Sunday-school Teachers. 

Most parents speak as if they had peculiar children — children 
either peculiarly good or peculiarly gifted — ^the best children in the- 
world, little models of excellence, little prodigies of genius ; and should 
a teacher fail to see their goodness, or to develop their genius, the- 
parents set it down as a settled thing that the teacher is a poor 
incapable, quite unfit for his office. No doubt, there are good and 
gifted children, although neither so good nor so gifted as their fond 
parents fancy. But sometimes those whom partial parents call the 
best children in the world are known by their neighbours, and espe- 
cially by their neighbours' children, to be little imps, up to every trick,, 
always in mischief, and seemingly on the fair way to a bad end. 

A few parents run to the opposite extreme. Their children they 
regard as necessary evils ; and they take the fair way to make them 
what they mistakenly think them to be. They treat them as the 
keeper of a menagerie treats wild beasts ; the great matter being to 
keep them in the cage or on the chain. The result is, they get a. 
good deal of the spirit of wild beasts ; and when they are let out on. 
society, or taken into the Sunday-school, there is hard work prepared 
for somebody. " Do not sin against the child," are words that rise to 
our lips when we hear a parent or a teacher either flattering him to 
his face, or assuring him that he is a hopeless character and must 
come to an ill end. 

Well, it is very likely that you may have one, or more than one, 
peculiar child in your class. Some children have physical pecuUari- 
ties. This was the case of a girl in America who was blind, and 
deaf, and dumb, and without the sense of smell There was only one 
of " the gateways of knowledge " through which she could learn— 
" feelgate." How it was done I do not know, but Laura Bridgeman 
was taught to read by tracing raised letters with her fingers; and 
when her fingers lost their sensitiveness she learned to trace the 
letters with her lips, and literally kissed into her mind and heart the 
truths of Jesus and His love. And though her eyes were sightless, 
she saw Jesus ; though her ears were stopped, she heard the still 
small voice of God's Spirit ; though her tongue was speechless, her 
heart talked with God ; though her sense of smell was dead, she 
enjoyed the fragrance of that name which is as perfume poured 
forth. If the difficulties of teaching and training a child like that 
have been overcome, you and I may keep a good heart in view of 
such mental and moral and social peculiarities as we are likely ta 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 315 

meet with in the scholars with whom we have to deal. At a few of 
these let us glance. 

I. Here is a peculiarly Dull Scholar: how are we to deal 
with him ? Owr first duty is to find out the cause of his dullness. 
Look at him ! There is not a spark of life, not a gleam of intelligence 
in his looks, say what you may and how you may. Others light up 
with some new thought you give them, and ripple all over with a 
smile at some happy illustration; but the dull scholar meets you^ 
with only a settled and tmmeaning stare, as if he could not conceive 
what his neighbours have got to please them so. Some one has 
recommended ministers, in order to keep up their courage, to think 
of their hearers as only so many cabbages. Well, it may seem to you 
no fancy, but a sober fact, that your dull scholar is as senseless as » 
cabbage. How is this ? 

His dullness may arise from natural deficiency. — In that case 
he is to be pitied, prayed for, and patiently borne with. You 
would not thrash a poor donkey because it could not compete with 
a blood-horsa I do not say, pray God to give the dull scholar 
intellect, but to give him grace in connection with the little intellect 
he has. It has been said : "God may give one a new heart, but He 
never gives a new intellect." That may be true ; but God's Spirit, 
applying His truth and revealing His love, quickens the little intel- 
lect one has, so that he makes the best use of it Do not despise one 
of these little ones — little in mental stature ; he may become great in 
the Kingdom of heaven. Poor Joseph was, no doubt, a dull scholar, 
but he got a happy faith, and that brightened him. It is hard work 
to teach a scholar of this class. It is a real labour to get an idea 
into his mind. Be patient ; be simple ; be earnest ; be bright in your 
dealings with him. Dr. Arnold, the great teacher at Eugby, said that 
he never could forget the look and words of a scholar of this kind 
with whom he lost all patience, and to whom he spoke with great 
sharpness. With a pitiful, not to say a reproving, look the boy said : 
* You shouldn't be angry with me, sir ; I do my best ! " Poor fellow t 
His best is very bad ; but we must take him as he is, and accept him 
according to that he hath, and not according to that which he hath 

His dullness may arise from mental laziness. — ^He may have brain- 
power enough if he would only use it ; but his mind has never been- 
wakened from its sleep. He must be startled with some striking; 

314 Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 

thought chosen for the purpose. You must prepare a mental electric 
battery, bring it to bear upon him, and pray that the shock may 
thoroughly rouse him. One who has been the dunce of a class for a 
time has suddenly brightened up and become a credit to his teadieL 
Adam Clarke, when at school, was so dull that his teacher complained 
to a visitor that he could make nothing of him. '' Never fear, sir/' 
was the cheery reply, " the boy will make a bright man yet ! *' Adam 
heard the hopeful words ; and from them he got his first incitement 
to that application which ended in making him a great scholar, a great 
writer, and a great Christian. Try to interest this kind of dull scholar 
in some subject. Find out what he takes most interest in, and lead 
him on from that to something else. Study him; sound him; 
encourage him to talk to you, out of school hours, about himself and 
his habits. In tliis way he will become interested in you, and in 
what you say, and will begin, to find out that he can think. It is a 
great thing to break ^ the shell that continues to shut in so many 
human chickens" long after they are no chickens in years. 

When you are deding with the dull scholar, you may think the 
poet Thomson was terribly sarcastic when he wrote : 

« Delightful task ! to rear the tender thought, 
And teach the young idea how to shoot" 

Your complaint is that the young idea won't shoot. But when per- 
severance is crowned with success, you will confess that it is indeed 
a delightful task. 

IL Here, again, is a pecuuarly Precocious Schoiar : how are 
we to deal with him ? He is a much rarer character than his neigh- 
bour the dullard. The dullard looks as if he never would b^gin to 
think ; the precocious boy, as if he had begun too soon, progressed too 
rapidly, and would be ripened too early. You will soon find him out. 
Sometimes he will reveal himself by his looks. His head seems too 
big for his body, as if he had the head of a man on the shoulders of 
a boy ; or he is " sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought," as if he 
fed on books instead of good, healthy food, with plenty of exercise. 
Sometimes he will reveal himself by his memory. Usually he has a 
prodigious memory, and can repeat no end of chapters from the Bible 
or hymns from some book ; and, while others cannot remember the 
lesson from week to week, he knows when you give an old thought, 
.and can tell you that you told them thM before. Sometimes he will 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 315 

reveal himself by his remarks. He will ask odd, out-of-the-way 
questions, which it would puzzle a philosopher to answer, and make 
remazks apt enough to upset the gravity of a judge. " I cannot call 
70U my angel now/' said a mother to Master Hopeful, whose filial 
obedience had been proved imperfect. The boy was equal to the 
occasion, and briskly replied, " Oh, yes, I am ; but I 'm your fallen 
angel ! That boy, for his years, was too clever by half, and some- 
body would find in him a precocious scholar. 

A hoy may he precocums from his birth. — Whether this is from the 
quantity or the condition of his brain we need not inquire ; one thing 
is clear, the activity of his brain is too great for the strength of his 
body, and, therefore, he needs to be soothed rather tlian stimulated. 
Others need to be roused to think ; he requires to be hushed to rest. 
He may he precocious by training. His parents have unwisely urged 
him to apply himself from such tender years that, when he should 
be learning liis letters, he can read fluently, repeat long pieces, and 
knows things of which, in childhood, ignorance is bliss. John Stuart 
Mill belonged to this class. He was treated as a sort of macliine that 
needed neither rest nor recreation ; so that he can scarcely be said to 
have known what it is to be a happy child or a mere boy. 

You will find that the precocious scholar is rarely happy in himself. 
His natural playfulness has been crushed out of liim, and he looks 
as if he never had been young. You will find, too, that he is rarely 
popular with his class-mates. They do not understand him, and he 
does not understand them. They call him " old stilts ; " and rather 
like to give him a fall. Sometimes he is a thorn in the side of 
the teacher. He asks' inconvenient questions, and occasionally 
he makes awkward corrections. " No, teacher, that is not the meaning ; 
for I have read all about it, and, besides, Mr. So-and-So says it means 

" is a remark not likely to win from him the warmest place in 

the teacher's affections. 

And how are you to deal with him ? Give him as little to do as 
possible ; persuade him to lay aside his books and take to sports, and 
especially to open-air exercise. He is like a plant that needs to be 
removed from the forcing-house and exposed to restoring and bracing 
influences. His parents may not understand him ; and you should 
confer with them about him. Advise them to stay his education for 
^ time; to stop his supply of books ; to give him something to do 
with his hands and feet ; and to send him early to bed. In fact, he 

3i6 Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 

ought to be allowed to run wild for a tiine. Your business is to give 
him here a little and there a little about the highest knowledge and 
the Best Friend, taking care that it is only a IxMt ; and, while you 
answer some of his questions as well as you can, hint to him gently 
that old-manish questions should be left to old men. 

You will have precocious scholars, perhaps, of another class. 
Tliere are marvellously clever urchins who will need wide-awake 
management to keep them from mischief. The late Dr. Guthrie telb 
us of a boy of this character. He accosted an old lady who was 
toddling along with a huge umbrella in her hand. He had no cap on 
his head, but plenty of brains in it ; no shoes on his feet, but a good 
deal of undei*standing for all that. He set himself to operate 
upon the venerable old lady. He went up and appealed to 
her for charity. She gave him a grunt. He went up again. She 
gave him a poke. He saw there was no chance of getting at her 
through her philanthropy, and he determined to get at her purse 
through her selfish fear. So he pulled up his sleeve to his yellow, 
skinny elbow, and, running up to her with his bare arm, he put on a 
woeful look and cried : " Just oot o' the infinnary with the typhus 
fever, ma*am!" The effect was electrical The old lady put her 
hand to the very bottom of her pocket, and, taking out a shillmg> 
thrust it into his hand and ran. That was skinning a flint You 
will have some of these sharpers to deal with; and you will 
need all your wits about you if you are to keep them fram 
gulling you or in some way performing an undesirable operation 
upon you. 

III. Here, next, is a peculiarly Sensitive Scholar : how are 
you to deal with her ? Her feelings are quick and tender. A little 
thing will make her smile with pleasure ; and a thing quite as little 
will make her sob as if her heart would break. Her companions might 
have skins like a rhinoceros ; speak as sharply to them as you may, 
they will hardly wince. She is so thin-skinned that a reproving 
glance will draw tears. 

This scholar is worth studying. She is shy of speaking, lest she 
should reveal her ignorance, and perhaps get herself laughed at. She 
is ready to take offence where no offence is meant, and will brood 
over some word spoken in the greatest kindness and simplicity ot 
heart. She is quick to love, and will amply repay all the kindness 
that can be lavished upon her. She is apt to learn, and through the 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 317 

strength of her affections will leap to conclusions to which others 
lave to plod their way more slowly and thoughtfully. 

And how are you to deal with her ? You must take her as she is, 
and begin by winning her confidence. That done, she will, like her 
emblem, the passion-flower, expand under your genial influence and 
reveal the sweetness and beauty of her loving nature. Above all 
other scholars, she will call for gentleness, gentle looks, gentle words, 
gentle treatment. An angry . look, a harsh word, a stem manner, 
would repel her, shut her up, and place her beyond your reach. And, 
vet you are to save her from herself. Like one of Shakespeare's cha- 
Tacters, she ** wears her heart upon her sleeve for daws to peck at." 
You must teach her better. When you have got her confidence and 
are quite alone with her, let her see how sad it will be for herself, 
and how trying to her friends, if she does not restrain her feelings, 
or encase her heart in faith and Christian firmness. " I will guard 
against this weakness," is the resolve you should encourage in her ; 
" Lord Jesus, take my heart into Thy keeping," is the prayer you 
should suggest to her for daily and constant use. And, with a 
resolved vnll, and a Jixed heart, her sensitiveness will grow into a 
fervent love, and become an element of strength. Her faith will 
become a tabernacle of joy in the calms of life, and a pavilion of 
peace amidst its storms. Few know the sovereign power of a 
resolute will ; fewer still the self-possession of a heart in Christ's 
keeping. Teach the sensitive scholar both these holy arts, and 
jou will save her from herself, save her for God. 

rv. Here, still further, is a peculurly Inquisitive Scholar : 
how are you to deal with liim ? I do not mean simply an inquiring 
scholar, bent on seeking information, and trying to find it by asking 
questions ; that is a spirit that should be encouraged. I rather mean 
a prying scholar, who carries his curiosity to an extreme, and asks 
questions about matters he should leave alone. His chief pleasure is 
in knowing everybody's business, and, like a character in an old play, 
good-natured, meddlesome Marplot, he might say, " X shall go stark- 
mad if I'm not let into the secret ! " "I shall certainly lose this 
secret, and I had rather by half lose my money." This is the spirit 
that would make him a spy, an eavea-dropper, a Utter-opener — anything 
mean to gratify impertinent curiosity. His very look is a mark of 
interrogation. He would "cross-examine an angel and open the 
sealed books of God." Why ? what ? who ? where ? when ? how ? 

3i8 Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 

are questions ever on his Kps or in his looks. At the most un- 
expected, perhaps the most improper, time he will put a question 
about something you are not willing to discuss, or about some one 
with whom he has no business. And nothing delights him more than 
to give his teacher what he considers " a poser," or to draw from 
him a confession that he is not prepared to answer him. 

Such is your inquisitive pupil, and it will require all your sdf- 
possession and tact to manage him. Have a good understanding with 
him to begin with. Let Mm know how ready you are to answer any 
reasonable question arising out of the lesson, and ply him with so many 
questions as to occupy his mind with the subject under consideration. 
A fool may ask questions that a philosopher could not answer; and, 
sometimes, you may have to confess frankly that you have never 
seen a satisfactory explanation of certain difficulties. A teacher 
must, above all things, be true, and never pretend to know what he 
really does not know. Encourage, and prepare to answer, questions 
that are to the point, and make it a rule to have notice given of other 
and difficult questions to be answered on the following Sunday. 
Teachers of senior classes will find it agreeable and helpful to have 
a question box into which the scholars may drop their perplexing 
questions. Such box should be periodically opened, and the best 
possible consideration giv«n to the inquiries proposed. 

You will find it a most interesting exercise to turn up the questions 
that were addressed to the great Teacher, and see how He answered 
those who sought for information, and those who wished rather to 
entangle Him in some difficulty. He, too, had an inquisitive disciple 
who, not content to have his own duty made plain to him, tried to 
pry into the destiny of another. And to his question, " Lord, and 
what shall this man do ? " the Master replied, " Wliat is that to 
thee ? follow thou Me." In the spirit of this reply, you should give 
the inquisitive scholar plenty to do ; urge him to live up to his light, 
and'^iead him from the speculative to the practical side of Christian 
truth. Inquisitiveness must either be repressed or nobly directed. 
In the moral, as in the animal, world there are creatures that fall a 
prey to foolish and dangerous curiosity. 

V. Here, moreover, is a peculiarly Irregular Scholar: how 
are you to deal with him ? -He is seldom in time ; that is one feature 
of his irregularity. And, however he may annoy you, disturb others, 
and attract the attention of the whole school, he does not seem to 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers, 31^ 

mind it a bit. And, if he can, by any mischance, find his teacher late 
some day, he will make capital out of the circumstance for months 
to come. Seldom in time, he is often ohseTU. On some you can 
always count; on him never. With you one day, he is away the 
next; and, perhaps, he may not favour you with the light of his 
coantenance for weeks. He misses some of your best lessons, and 
lessons which you prepared with the sincere hope of doing him good. 
He is as shifting and uncertain as a weather-cock, and not so useful. 
Unstable as water, he cannot excel. 

*'How shall we order the child, and how shall we do unto him ? " 
In the first place, you mud he as regtdar aa possible yourself, and so set 
a good example, and give him no handle to use against you. 
Punctuality, according to Louis XIY., is the politeness of kings ; and 
punctuality should be the practice of teachers, who are kings in their 
class. When Washington's secretary failed to keep an api)ointment 
in time, and threw the blame of the failure on his watch, his master's 
quick reply was, " Then you must get another watch, or I another 
secretary." The moral of the story is too plain to need application. 
Watch-makers would have a good time of it if all unpunctual teachers 
were to take the hint. Never allow a little thing to keep you away 
from your class. A headache may depress you, a storm may threaten 
you, or a friend may solicit you ; but let there be no yielding except 
to the inevitable. Give your scholars the impression that you will 
UMike any sacrifice to meet with them; and, catching your spirit^ 
most of them will soon come to make any sacrifice that they may 
meet with you. 

In the second place, you mivst consider his circumstances and 
kam wheiher he is to he hlamed or pitied. Home circumstances 
may make him late, or may keep him away. This is more likely 
to be the case with a girl than a boy ; but, in any case, you will 
distinguish between one who is iiTCgular from necessity and one who- 
is iR^fular from carelessness. Enlist the sympathy and co-operation of 
the parents ; they can remove hindrances and encourage regularity ; 
and, if you get on the right side of them, they will. 

In the third place, aim to interest him in you, and in what you say, 
soeuio hind him to the doss hy his regard for you. This may be done 
by visiting him at Ms home, or by inviting him to yours, and 
talking with him about your plans and wishes, and your hope that he 
will back you up in your work and be a credit to the class. The best 

320 Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 

way to get bim interested in you is to be really interested in him, and 
to make tbe lesson as interesting to him as possible. We might say 
of some teaching, as Quince says of the lion's part in the play, " You 
may do it extempore, for it is nothing but roaring." And a scholar 
oiay be pardoned if he is not attracted and held by the roaring. 

Do not lose heart, however, if the irregular scholar, in spite of 
your best endeavours, should continue irregular. God Himself speaks 
as if He did not know what to make of, how to deal with, some 
irregular and inconstant ones, whose goodness was like the morning 
cloud and the early dew. Do your duty and keep a good heart 

VI. Here, finally, is a peculiarly Unruly Scholar : how are 
you to deal with him ? I need not describe him. In fact, he is 
indescribable, and like no creature so much as " the unspeakable 
Turk." He has got the upper hand of his parents ; and they have 
left him pretty much to his own sweet will. Now he fancies he is to 
have the upper hand of his teacher ; and his whole look is one of 
defiance. He delights in nothing so much as in creating an uproar. 
He glories in being able to "rile" his teacher and "nettle" the 
Buperintendent. He has always some " little game " in hand ; and, 
generally, he is worst when he should be best, when some one is 
leading the school in prayet. If then he can pinch or playfully dig 
^ pin into some quiet boy so as to extract a scream, he is in the third 
heaven of delight. '' No, I won't ! " is his usual answer to the most 
reasonable request. '^ Don't care ! " is his response to the most 
solemn appeal. 

And what is to be done with him ? " Turn him out," some say : 
4ind he richly deserves to be turned out ; but if we all had our deserts, 
it would fare badly with us. " Tame him," say others : and that is 
the very thing that needs to be done mth him; but it is more 
^easily said than done. Rarey had a wonderful way of taming the 
most unruly and fiery horse, and doing it without unnecessaiy 
cruelty ; but it is not every teacher who is a moral Barey, able to 
tame this wild colt of a scholar. Thrashing won't do him any good. 
Perhaps he gets plenty of that at home ; for there are parents whose 
whole system of family discipline consists in giving the children what 
a mother described as " awfu' letherins." And if, on the contrary, 
they have spared the rod and spoiled the child at home, it is not the 
province of the Christian teacher to use it Some^ I know, agree 
with the mother who had brought up eight strapping boys, and 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 321 

liought them up well, and who, when ashed, ** How did you bring 
them up ? " said, " I brought them up in the fear of 6od and the 
horsewhip." I think the fear of God is better apart from the horse- 
whip ; but, if horsewhip there must be, the parent, not the teacher, 
should wield it 

Try to find otU his weak or Undir point. There is some soft place 
abotthim; and if you find out that, yon may touch a spring that 
will open his whole soul to your control. A common daisy picked 
up by a prisoner firom a patch of grass in the prison-yard called up 
memories of her girlhood, and drew forth a flood of tears as she mused 
over it in her cell. And something as simple as that may give you 
the key to the imruly scholar's heart. Try, try, try again, and you 
may find the key that fits. 

Show him that you wish to rule him only hy love. A teacher who 
had perfect control over as rough and unruly a class of scholars as 
could well be gathered together, and whom one teacher after another 
had given up in despair, was asked the secret of his influence over 
them. This was his answer : " I'm a believer in the omnipotence of 
love. Every good teacher is a believer in the omnipotence of love ; 
and, if you bring that power to bear in every possible way, you 
wOl win the day, and, winning the day, you will make the unruly 
scholar one of your best allies." 

Sometime it may be Tiscessary to give him to a peculiarly experienced 
teacher, and to have him taken to a separate room. It must not be 
tolerated that one shoidd, for weeks and months, sacrifice all the plea- 
sure and profit of a whole class. Bather than dismiss him, let special 
provision be made for him. Christian ladies, gentle, firm, and wise, 
have a marvellous chaim over such young savages, and to a Christian 
lady let him, if possible, be entrusted. 

A$ a last resource he Tnay have to be expelled the school. This should 

never be done until every other method has failed ; and, when this is 

done, it should be done quietly, gently, sadly, by the superintendent 

wd the teacher together. Some would make the expulsion public for 

the sake of example and warning to others ; better let it be private 

for the sake of the boy himself, and to make it easier for him to 

retrace his steps if he should wish to confess his faults, to promise 

amendment, and seek restoration to his place and privileges. like 

the door of the Father^s house, the door of the school and of our 

hearts should be ever open to admit the returning prodigal. 

li. P. Macmaster. 



Bt the Hon. Mrs. Robert Butler. 

|0U say I ought'to like your ehurc^ and not the ehapel best^ 
WeUy sit you down, if you have timei and take. a minute's resty 
And I will tell you, riverint sir, as how it first began, 
We left off going to your church, both I and my good man. 

" Twas in another parson's time, some thirty years ago, 
Not him as was before you, but 'fore him again, yer know ; 
We went to church, my man and I, as r^ar every week 
Aa dad the parson and the clerk, who went to preadi and speak. 

*' We loved the church, and churchyard too, and once when spring came round, 
And all the pretty flowers shot forth their buds above the ground, 

* Got Bosie she fell ill with croup — she wasn't three year old — 
Aad Jesus took our piecioos lamb' to tend in heaven's fold. 

^ And in your churchyard 'neath a tree we chose her little grave. 
We liked to think that branches green above her head would wave, 
It seemed so peaceful-like and sweet ; but I felt hard and wild, 
. And eouldnt say, ' Qod's will be done '-^she was our only child. 

^The parson came to speak to me, but didn't do no good ; 
' He said, ' Gk)d's ways on earth with man were seldom understood ' ; 
' Bojt^.when he read the burial woxds, how Jesus rose again^ 
Peace Ml upcvi my troubled heart, and tears pomed down likerain. 

** My Bosie; too, would rise again, and by her grave I knelt, 
To thank the Lord who'd taken her, and from that time I felt 
I conldnt wish her back on earth, expoeed to evidry atonn, 
Emm haave^, where Jesu's sheltering anns embnioed her 8Bfe.and;tfBiOL 

''^And summer, autumn, winter past, and then agatn came spring, 
. And >with It to onr cottage home the joy that angels brin^ 
For Qodlooked on our lQnelince8.and eent snol^er diild 
With Bosie's ^yes and Bosie's hairi whot ^^ ^» ttot994d^9M 9mShoiL 

HThefields^ere shining bright as'gold clothed in their flowers gay, 
•And binb ware singing load the songs ^9f seem to keep'fer -Msyi 
And so we thdoght we'd call her. M^y^ this UoncfloaL bri^^ctf aiv% 
That Qod had sent to us in May, the'saaaon oiA^^/omvak 

Church .and Chapel. 323 

^'The flEuiest flower of all the «p™%>' ^ ^^ ^ my^good man. 
And then we Imelt and prajed for her Hke parents only can. 
The Chriatening day^dawned bright and warm, and burst with light and lofB| 
As though sweet Nature joined our hearts in praising Qod abOTe. 

^ We got into the pony cart I'd dressed her all in white. 
I didn't hear an ^angel's wing, nor see an angel bright, 
Bat by our nde an angel sat with ready outstretched hand 
To take our sinless child to dwell ih God's own siftless land. 

^'The pony hadn't been out for weeks, and so was fresh that day, 
He cocked his ears and jumped and shied, and tlmn he ran away ; 
My man called out to me, * Hold tight, he can't go on for long, 
Hell soon spend all the strength he has, he pkillaaway so sfciong.' 

*" I feared not for myself but her, and held her to my breast. 
And then arouxkt heif bleased fonn my arms I tightly piesfledi 
For if we had a fEdll thought they'd shield ber from its forc^ 
And on and on the pony ran its frigfafuog, naddbung course. 

^ Those minutes seemed like hours to me. Have you, sir, ever seen 
Tour dearer self in danger great, confironJdng death, I mean ? 
Then, perhaps, you'd know the baceathleas fear which seized my heart that day, 
As on and on the pony ran its fdghfning, madd'ning way, 

^ And on he galloped till he came where, by the left road-side, 
A new-laid pile of stones was heaped. He looked at it and shied. 
The cart was overturned and broke, and I knew nothing more 
Until I found myself again within our cottage door. 

''My predoua one was in my arms. *Thank God, she's safe 1 ' I said, 
And looked up in my husband's face. There came a fearful dread 
As broken-hearted tears 1 saw, fast down his pole cheeks rolled, 
I touched my Httle angel's hand. Oood God, 'twas deathly cold t 

''There wasa cUtaa from a stone upon her hleflsed.broW| 
And that was all the sign of hurt My husband told me how 
My arms had'held her t&ny fonn so^flimly in their gi«s|^ 
That he had' tried and tried imnaln to loose her fhmtty etaap. 

^ We women shed' our tears like ndjii, and find in them relief ; 
They're wrung from men like drops of blood in agony of grief ; 
I never saw such bitter tears as in that desolate hour 
Were pouring down my husband's cheeks, forced out by sorrow's power. 

'^ ' ^Hfe, this wont do,' at last he sobbed, ' sheHr ^one to glory now, 

And sin will never seal its brand upon her sinless brow ; 

The burial words will comfort us as when our Rocde died, 

And in the churchyard 'neath that tree we'll lay them side by side.' 


324 Church and Chapel. 

^ We put some flowers upon her breast, and placed her in her co^ 
We seemed to feel her angel soul reflected from that spot 
* 111 see about the burial now, at once,' my husband said ; 
He kissed us both, and left me there to watch my precious dead. 

^ My blossom sweety my flower £ujr, that Qod to me had given, 
To bless me for an hour, and then had taken her back to heaven ; 
She looked so pure and innocent^ dressed in her robes of whiter 
I £elt she'd be my angel guide to lead to realms of light 

" In half-an-hour my man came back. I never shall forget 
The altered look upon his face, his teeth were firmly set 
As though with rage, and then he said, in bitter accents wild, 
* The parson'b mad, I think, he says she's not a Christian child t 

" < And he won't buiy her at all !' My May, my heavenly May, 
So loved by Qod that to Himself He'd taken her away, 
To think it needed water cold, thrown over her by man, 
To give God's Spirit to her soul, which Jesus only can. 

^ Well then we said we'd bury her hard by in Baptist ground, 
And there, 'mid trees and flowers of spring that freshly budded round, 
We heard how Jesus died and rose, that He might all redeem — 
The parson could not rob us of that glorious Bible theme. 

'< And soon we took our Rosie up to lay them side by side. 
And oft we go isnd pray by them in summer eventide. 
And read the words that Christ is risen, which tell us they shaU rise, 
Our angel children years ago transplanted to the skies. 

** And so we went to chapel, sir ; we felt we couldnt pray 
With one who spoke and thought hard things of darling little May ; 
And by her in that Baptist ground we hope ourselves to rest ; 
Oh, may our souls be joined with hers in peace on Jesn's breast 

" And parson died soon alter that With funeral pomp and show 
They laid him in his churchyard grave 'mid outward signs of woe.. 
Ah, well ! I'd rather in Qod's day be with my children found 
Than with the parson, though he lies in consecrated ground." 



f «at^ of pr. #. C. Cotter, M< of Caloilta. 

ANT of the sorviyon of those who have been coimected witli 
Baptist MiinonB in Eastern India daring the last twenty 
years wiU learn with sorrow of the death of Mr. 0* T. Cutter, 
which took place on the morning of April 19th, 1881. The 
greater part of his life, extending oyer seventy years, was 
ipent in oonneotion with printing in Burmah, Assam, and Bengal ; at first 
in conneetion with mission work: in the two former provinceSi and in later 
years as superintendent of the Government printing establishments in 
Calcutta. On acoount of his efficiency he eontinued in the latter connection 
beyond the nsual time of service, but retired to reside in London in the 
spring of 1873. An American by birth, and from early years associated 
with some of the most distinguished of those who have served the cause of 
missions in Biirmab, he ever manifested a deep interest in all Ohristian 
work in India, and delighted in the friendship of those engaged in it. 
When in Calcutta his position enabled him efficiently to help many of the 
native Christians— which he was ever ready to do — and how cheerfully and 
heartily he served his brethren engaged in the Mission many of the 
rejoice to testify. A responsible and onerous official life was succeeded by 
Boven years of retirement, occupied in devoted attention to a loved 
ccmpanion whose broken health was the cause of much anxiety ; in varied 
service, assisting any of his brethren who, coming to a strange city, might 
need his help or be cheered by his sympathy ; and in delighted attendance 
on those public services which seek to quicken spiritual life or strengthen 
the means of Christian work. A comparatively short illness, which seemed 
a simple prostration of the whole physical and mental powers, dosed a life 
^ which many rejoiced as illustrating sincere piety, hearty friendship, and 
loving iTfmpathy- 


HisTOBY OP Religion in England, 
&om the Opening of the Long Parlia- 
ment to the End of the Eighteenth 
Century. By John Stoughton, D.D. 
New and Revised Edition. In ax 
volnmes. London: Hodder& Stough- 
ton, 27, Paternoster Row. 1881. 

^> QtJiNGSV somewhere remarks that 

the works of our great English divines 
form of themselves a literature of which, 
apart altogether from their theological 
value, any nation might be proud. They 
furnish us with our highest examples of 
style and our profoundest discussions of 
the metaphysical and ethical problems 
which occupy the attention oi successive 


generation9( laJSkenuamerit-mayfaa 
said that the history of religion in 
Boj^and is the history of the most con- 
spicuous and influential movements in 
our national life. Hie greatness of a 
natfibsi' is not 'decided primarily by its 
Uttpa of rgnvemment, the comtesta of its 
ri¥aJ politicianSi or its prominence in 
war, but by the power of the principles 
of which religion is at once the source 
and the symboL This is the ground* on 
which the most momentous of our con* 
iUcta have beeiLlovght^ ^d our grandest 
and most m^mosable triumphs won. All 
the great secular historians — Hume, 
Hallamy Macaulay^ Stanhope, and 
Greoi^crfvte mitidi of their space - to a 
nanatfott'of'the straggles of religion 
against kingcraft, statecraft, and priest- 
craft. BeUgion is the sternest foe of 
tyranny and oppression, of ignorance, 
vice, and superstition— the inspiring 
powtt of all true philosophy, the Mend 
of eduoatian and phllanthTopy, the 
guardian of our liberty. The subject is 
so thoroughly intertwined with our 
progress in every direction that to ignore 
it is impoBSlble. It does, however, 
demaaid Mparate discuadon* Special 
aapeetaof the subject haive been ably 
treated by. Hunt, Tulloch, Bright, 
Pattison, Waddington, and Skeats, but 
we have no work so comprehensive in 
its range aa-Dr. Stoughtoo^s. 

The period of which he writes com- 
prises all the great epochs of our history 
sinoe the Beformation— the Civil Wars, 
the Commonwealth, the Restoration, the 
Bevolntioiir oQ^the Oeorgian era. Dr. 
StoQi^n ia nolirthe advocate of any 
single cboreh ov party^^but writes with 
equal faunisa of alt— not only ezplain- 
ing tbeur.qpecific prindplas and detail- 
ing the salient eventa in their historyi 
but ti»^ciiig; t]ieir mutual relations 

copalian, PresbytfeKUAi Independent^ 
Baptist, Unitarian, and W«8leyan 
will find in these pages a gmphic 
nanative of the matters in which 
they are severaUy interested. The 
histocy is a model oL scholarly re- 
seardu Materials have been gathered 
from every possible quarter--publie 
and private libraries. State papers, MS. 
collections, church-books,' and parish 
registers. The candour otfir. Slough- 
ton is as conspicuous as his thoroogh- 
ness. He sees clearly thaf the ad vocstes 
on one side of a great question were not 
all thoroughly good, and those on the 
other side not all thoroughly bad." He 
honours truth, intogrity, fuid Aevotion 
wherever be finds them, and never 
atten^ts to vamish their oppositea. 

The story he has to tdl is a noble 
and fhscinatfng one. No douht there 
is much in it to awnken in^Ujgnatioii,. 
shame, and regret Beligion has often 
been dishonoured by the unholy pur- 
poses it has been made to serve, and the 
unholy alliances into whidi it has been 
forced. It has been used as a mere 
engine of stateeiafty a means of en- 
slaving and degrading m&u But the 
history is nevertheless one of progress. 
Light has triumphed over darkness, 
good over evil, and, with many draw- 
backs, amid severe stmgglaa ni fre- 
quent .fioluies, there haa been; throa|^ 
the centuries a steady advance towards 
the realisation of God's ideal The 
very names of the men wbose lives Dr. 
Stoughton portrays are a history in 
themselves— Charles L and II., Jamas 
IL, Strafford, Laud, Pymi Cromwell, 
Hampden, Milton, and Bidenyan, ^ the 
seven bishops, to say xu>thing of' the 
founders of our Free Churches, our thao- 
lqgian%p!reaobec8, andnuaabnpioneen. 
How, ppwerful flie assodMfoDa which 
gj^tber around the mentioa of the JGDig!^ 



CommiaucmCottrtaiul the Slur Gbaxubei, 
Edge Hill and Alaxstoii Moor, Bartholo< 
niew'« Day, the Act of Uniformity, the 
Conventicle Act, the Five-Mile Act, the 
Test Aot, . and the heroic straggles 
lor their repeal ! How beautiful the 
j^'limpfles we obtain into the inner life 
of the Churches J Many of our. ecclesi- 
astical opponents are here seen to be 
immeasurably better than their creed ; 
and certainly we cannot but be thank- ' 
fill for the noble stand our forefeitheiB 
liiode to resist the encxoacluneixts of 
Popery, to secure absolute freedom 
£raiu State eonfcrol, to establish a Scrip- 
tural mode of worship and purity of 
church fellowship. If we wish to 
understand the England of to-day, 
with its enlightenment, its civil and 
miigious liberty, and its possibilities 
of still broader growth, ,we must be- 
come familiar with the events and the 
men so vividly presented to our view 
in Dr. Stou^ton's history. If this 
work, were the sole achievement of the 
author's life, he would merit our 
warmest congratulations. It cannot 
fail to beceme one of the classics of 
our English Htenture, an enduring 
memorial of patient and scholarly 
re:s<iarch. Its mere literacy excellences, 
its claamess and simpUdty of style, 
its graphic portraiture^ ita skilful 
aualysisy . its masterly tracing of the 
i^etfusnce of events in relation to the 
puipoee which runs through the ages, 
wdold akme 'secure for it a foremost 
plaoe^ Add to these qualities sound* 
neai and impartiality of judgment, 
tmnifattnt • candour^ and the refined 
BjmftJ^jf of a generous Christian 
heart, aid wluit further can. we require 1 
TbB publiBben, in iastung this msw 
ediftiom. luve- placed all the chnrehes 
of' ear land under gieat obUgatiana. 
It. is ptintad in;a laige ckaor type, is 

well bound, jmd with a '*getmp'' 
which, leaves nothing to be desired. 
Its price brings it within general readi, 
and we cannot doubt that the spirited 
enterprise of the publishos will be 

The Jbsub of trb EvAHOiBLiepFS : His 
Historical Character Vindicated. Or 
an Examination of the Internal EVi- 
doaeefor our Lord's Divinai Miasien • 
with Bederenee to Modem Obotro- 
versy. Bj, the Rev. C. A. Row^ 
M. A, . Prebendary of St Paul's; 
Author of '< Christian Evidences 
viewed in Belation to Modnrm 
Thought," '< The SupematnraL in .the 
New Testament,'' &d. SecowL Edi- 
tion. London : Frederic Neigate, 7, 
King Stresit, CovBnt QardoB ; . Wil> 
liams & Norgate^ 20^ ; EieiiBric 
Stoeeft, Edinbnxgh. 1880.. 

Int fthe edition "of this work now be- 
fore iw the author supplies the key to 
what we do not hesitate to describe as 
the ireasures it contains. 

'^The reader shoidd obisrre that one 
great principle nndeiHea the satin work. 
Whatever theoty may be prepoottded aa 
tothenatonaad origin of tli*> gsapeli^ 
it is a liiiipU fast that they ooaMn loor 
deUneatiam ef • titeraame gieafc tchasMtert 
whioh, althoagh taken Inom fon»difleieaa 
points of view, pres e n t a sahstantial 
unity in all their prinolpal featuss.. 
This nnity is a faot whioh desMaids to he 
accounted for* The theory that they, 
are four portraitures oi the aaoM histo- 
rical character, taken from the life, 
affords a rational aoooont of it. The 
theories of those who deny the feallliy 
of the Ckvpel narratives assson thit 
they consist of a maas of myttde and' 
legendary matter, oonibined, it* may be^' 
with aiew graina of hialoclsal''tnrii^ or' 
th«t Htmy hMim bean, gp ad u a llr ' • *■> <• * j 
by^'a number of diaandhMii aaato inb» 



whidh the primitive Ghrittiaa Society 
WM divided, Imt in eoone of time be* 
oame fued into • nnity celled the 
Cetholio Ohvroh ; and thet oat of each 
mnterie^ the oreetiona of » number of 
independent mindi, the anthon have 
created the perfect character of the Jeana 
of the BvangeliaU ! Tbeee theoriea it ia 
the object of the preeent work to dia« 

The mythical theorj of the character 
of Christ haa called forth many able 
opponents in our day, and we believe 
that it is rapidly passing into the most 
utter discredit In fjGu;t, startling as the 
assertion may seem to some, we do not 
hesitate to say that the scientific spirit 
of the age ii against it. It is the 
special business of science to ascertain 
fiEicts and their relations to each other ; 
and there is a true science of historical 
criticism which is becoming better un- 
derstood than it used to be, which is 
not content to overlook even the most 
minute item of historical evidence, and 
which is fast finding out that the 
GK>8pel records are at least as trust- 
worthy as any historical documents the 
validity of which has been established. 
It is the supernatural element in the 
Gospel which makes our naturalist 
critics so shy of admitting it to be 
true. They go forward to the exami- 
nation with a foregone conclusion. 
Instead of allowing the history to 
prore the supematuralism, they use 
the supematuralism to discredit the 
history; and, having assumed this 
utterly unscientific position, they have 
to resort to all manner of ingenious but 
absurd shifts to account for evangelical 
facts which it is impossible for them to 
deny. Prebendaiy Bow has elaborately 
and eloquently shown how their logic 
hobbles, and apsawls, and fedls at eveiy 
point. This, however, is not the only 

service which he has rendered. He 
stands in the fitont rank of the great 
writers of our time who have, by their 
intense, patient, and deyout study of 
the Divinely provided sources of infor- 
mation, brought the perfectly human 
and perfectly Divine character of our 
Lord into more distinct view, and who 
have thus vindicated His claim to the 
obedient &ith and homage of the world. 
It was quite germane to his purpose to 
expound <Hhe law of our religious and 
moral development,'' to recount ''the 
preparations made in the Qentile world 
for the advent of Christianity" " through 
the developments of Judaism," and to 
define the ''Messianic conceptions" 
which existed in the various ages 
which preceded the Messiah. The last 
chapter, which notes those " features of 
the Gospels which are inconsistent with 
the supposition of their unhistorical 
character," is one of the most conclusive 
in the volume. We beg our readers to 
make this admirable work their own. 

Sunlight and Shadow ; or, Gleanings 
fix)m my Life- Work. By John B. 
Gough. London : B. D. Dickenson, 
89, Farringdon Street 

We conjecture that many of our readeis 
are already familiar with this most 
charming book. Those who take it in 
hand are sure to read it through with 
eagerness and delight Of course it has 
not the sustained interest of a first-daas 
novel ; nor is it in any proper sense an 
autobiography. It is a collection of in- 
cidents, reflections, and outpourings of 
the heart on matters most closely re- 
lating to the welfare of man, and espe- 
cially on those which have to do with 
the one great vice with which the author 
has waged so prolonged, so uncompro- 
mising, and withal so successful a war- 



fare. Mr. Gongh may not be a logician ; 
Int he ia something better. He is a 
phOanthropist, inspired with a quench- 
less enthusiasm for the noble and blessed 
<»nse with which he is identified, and 
gifted with a glorious versatility of 
power in the advocacy of that cause in 
which pathos and fun play their re- 
spective parts to perfection. His pen 
is not less fisu^ile and potent than his 
tongacyand tiiose who have been thrilled 
by bis oratory will anticipate equal en- 
joyment in the pemsal of his book, and 
will not be disappointed. 

The Book of Praiss fob Children. 
Pablished for the Congregational 
Union of England and Wales by 
Hodder & Stoughton. 
The Rev. G. S. Barrett, of Norwich— to 
whom the editing of this volume was 
^entrusted — ^has executed his task with 
evident good taste and judgment His 
selection of children's hymns has been 
caiefullyand wisely made, and, speaking 
generally, we can commend both his 
insertions and his omissions. We find 
in the book many old favourites from 
Watts, Charles Wesley, and Jane and 
Ann Taylor, as well as more recent 
pieces from Dr. Bonar, T. T. Lynch, 
Hrs. Alexander, Miss Procter, Miss 
Btveigal, and others of our sweet 
dingers. The claim of having adhered 
rigidly to the text of each hymn as 
written by the author is, however, not 
in every case made good. Thus, for 
example, Dr. McLeod's magnificent 
seises (No. 187) have several unfortu- 
nate variations : — 

*'l4t the RMd be long anl dreuy, and Its 
tBdingoQtof aighV* 


^'AoiyAthe raadbe kmg and dnaiy.and 

'' Tnut no frlandt of gailtf pasiion. 
Friends oaa look liko angals bright," 

should be 

•♦ BKun Mform» of a^nty panf on« 
Iumii» aao look like angeia bright" 

Verse 5 we have never before seen, and 

it certainly does not appear in Dr. 

McLeod's issue of the words with 

Sullivan's music The second line of 

verse 7, 

^laward peaoa aa4 inward light," 
should read, 

" Inward pe«oa and tkining lieht." 
At the end of hymn 344 the name 
of the Eev. W. Walsham How is in- 
correctly spelt Taking the Miferk as a 
whole, it is, perhaps, one of the best 
Sunday-school hymn-books which have 
yet been issued. It is issued in three 
forms, at 9d., 6d., and 4d. 

Thb School Htmnal : a Collection of 
Hymns for use in Schools and 
Families. London: £. Marlborough 
& Co., 51, Old Bailey. 

This Hymnal has been compiled 
mainly by the Rev. W. R Stevenson, 
of Nottingham, at the request of the 
General Baptist Ajssociation, and wiU 
no doubt be laigely used by the section 
of our body which that association 
represents. We see no reason, how- 
ever, why the other section should not 
give to it an equally cordial welcome. 
So far as we can observe, there is 
nothing to prevent this on the score 
either of taste or of doctrine. Indeed, 
it Would find a fitting home in any 
School, or Bible-claas, or Young Chris- 
tian Band, where the Qospel of Christ 
is taught, and where His praises are 
sung ; for whilst, throughout, the book 
is intensely evangelical, it is also truly 
catholic It is divided into two parts ; 
the first, consisting of eighty-nine 
hymns, selected specially for infant 
classes and younger children, the re- 
maining 254 being intended far children 



of more advanced years and trainuig. 
A laige number of the ablest wnteis of 
hymns for childien hare been drawn 
ufom • The Tdkome is enriohed by ex- 
odknt oontribati(«8 from modern^ Bap- 
tutranthors, inclnding the Revs. T. and 
Fi W; Qoadby, E. H. Jackson^ S. S. 
Alsop, C. Churke, Dr. Sutton, and T. 
Ryder ; and it can be purchased' in 
paper covers for 3d., in limp cloth 
for 4d., or in cloth boarda for 8d. The . 
Hymn$ for Younger Children are sold 
in paper covers at a penny, and in limp 
cloth at twopence. A liberal allowance 
is made to persons taking quantities. 
Ekcellence and cheapness ought to 
ensure an extensive and permanent, 
sale. We ought to say that the render- 
ing of Dr. McLeod's hymn is open to 
cshicismMBimilar to tkat txpon whieh we> 
hfeive ventured in the preceding notice. 

TusCditiBTZAN^ Plea aoaikbtModbbn 
UiffBiELiSF : a Handbook of Christian 
Bvidence. By R. A. Redfard, M.A., 
LL.B., Professor of Systematic The- 
ology, &c.. New College, London. 
Pp. 540: Hodder & Stoughton. 1881. 

Ws congmtulateth^ChmtiAnEyideiioe . 
Society, at whoee requeet tiiisco]ii[^- 
hmsive and much-needed work was 
undertaken, on having selected a wsiter 
in every reqpeot so competent.- Pro- 
fesaor Redibsd has brought to hia great 
task a deamess and accumoy /of Judg- 
nieii4^a ful^beas of infonuition^ a .free* 
dom fnan warping and miakadiag 
pui^Qdioee, lad'a luiddjlgr «iid YivaeilT^ 
of etylei which imrpaii to his wotk 
greori* interest .and valtt^ not only/aa 
a^xd^fenea of Ghrktitait^ at all th« 
plants at which it haa been availed, but 
ala^ as an eiqgament which goee to pio¥e 
that noM of tha paidb or peeaeat fonna 

of unbelief have anything of any worth 
to substitute for it It is by no msaa^ 
a hackneyed, superficial, slovenly, or in- 
complete treatment o£ this large aabject 
wihich we find in theae numerous, iK>m< 
pact,., and well-printed pages. Sysd 
readers who are versed in the quastioD^ 
which are discussed will discover addi- 
tional helps to correct judgment and 
faith ; whUe.the various reaaoniiigs are 
set forthin a manner not too abstnue 
for those whose knowledge i» mon; 
limited. Such a book is eminently 


timely, and, if the young men and 
women of our day would '' read, mark, 
learn, and inwardly digest" it, they 
would be, intellectually at least, amply 
fortified against the proud but cniel 
scepticism to which they are incessantly 

Companion to trb Rcvisxd VEsaioK 

OF TH8 IteQUSH NsW TfinAXfitT. 

By Alex. Roberts, D.D. London: 
Oaaiell, Petter, & Oalpin. 

Db. Roberts, a member of the Nev 
Ttetament Company, is also the joint- 
author of a work published some years 
ago on ** The Words of the New TfesU- 
ment,'' in which many, of the changes 
which have been made were distmctly 
anticipated. The subject has a strong 
fascination for him, and he has the rue 
power of imparting the results of his in- 
vestigations in a simple and thorooghly 
popular sty^e. The idea of hL» book !» 
decidedly good. Merely English readers 
need some information as to the |pmmd 
ofthe alterations made in the Atithoiised 
Version, whether they arise fiibm an 
amended Greek text or ftom an amended 
translation. Dr. Roberts adfltittUf 
8U|)pliea thia need. His work «iU 
make the Revision much more intel- 
ligibk, and will commend it to the 



judgment and sympatliy of many who, 
but for saeh guidance as he supplies, 
would regard it with indifferenoe, and 
peihaps dislike. We strongly advise 
our £riends to secure this invaluable 

Dr. Ada3I!Clabk£'sComh£ntary on thje 
HolyBibls ; containing the Author's 
latest corrections. A new EditioUi 
with additional Pre£atory and Sup^ 
plemental Notes, bringing the Work 
up to the present Standard of Biblical 
Knowledge ; and an account of the 
Revision ol the Text of the New 
Testament By the Rev. Thomley 
SmiUi. Complete in 39 Monthly 
Parts. Price Is. London : Ward, 
Lock, & Co., Salisbury Square. 

Ma.anRRGBDH has said :^ If you have 
a c<^y of Adam Clarice^ and exeimse 
diacretion in reading it, you will deiire 
imittense advantage from it, for fre* 
quently, by a sort of side-light, he brings 
out the meaning of the text in an as- 
tonishingly novel manner. I do not 
wondar tW Adam Olacke atOl standsi 
notvithafeanding hia peculiaritifla^ a 
prince amaag commentobois.'' This ii 
high praise^ but it is well deserved, 
Clarke's Commeatasy on the New Tee* 
tament is be^ttor known to ouiselvea 
than hia Oonnwntary on the Old ; and 
we aie glad now to have an opporianily 
of consulting the latter with an intexeat 
equal to that with whichj we havaieon^ 
suited the fannoB. The twa parts of 
this gnat wok wkich have been issaed 
conduct US t» the end. of the Book of 
Geneas; D& dazka wxota when know^ 
ledge on Bflslieal matten was fieir rnoie 
circumseribied'and uncertain than it is 
nowy'aad he hod hia fancies aa an in^ 
teipraltt^ wMch, howaim, he.dafendad 
witii no little iogaud^v ThamialiiitB 

into which, under tiiese conditious, he 
natually fell' are happily corrected by 
his present editor, not by any modifi- 
cation of the text of the Commentary, 
but by the insertion of needM notes. 
There is also an interesting* memoir of 
the learned author ; and the edition is^ 
enriched by numerous engravings, maps,, 
and plans, 

OwBiT'a BJOBBT ; or, Strength in Weak- 
ness : a Tale. By £b»Br Burleigh* 
Nelson & Son& 

Habo&d HiURiif qs ; or, the Vicar's 
Soo. By James Yeames, Author of 
^Lile in London Alleys," ^ Ingle* 
Nook/' ^Told with a Purpose," 
^ Homely Homilies," &&, &o. Na- 
tional Temperanee Publication Depot,. 
337, Strand. 

Plucxjo) fbox ths. Buasnsa ; a True- 
Story. By Laura L. Pratt, Author 
of ^ Our Sister May," &c. National 
Temperanoe Publication Depot, 387, 

JuvBimjB TsMPsiuNcx Stobixs, By 
Various Authors. National Tern* 
perance Publication Depot 

Ws have no room for particulars re- 
specting these various temp^ance pub- 
lications, but must content ourselves 
with saying that they are all readable 
and well calculated to promote the 
object at which they aim. "Owen'a 
Hobby" is a prize story of consider- 
able dimensions, admirably related, and 
fall of 'affecting incidents which go to- 
show how dangerous it is for those- 
who take intoxicating drink to trust to- 
themselvea for the stEength necessary 
for the avddanoe of exoess,, and how 
the pledge of abstinflDoe acts as a safe- 
gOBxd, evaa.when aU otiier human 
meaDB have becai.lttBiid to fail The 



*** Juvenile Temperance Stories " appear 
in two separate and pretty little 
Tolomes. These five publications should 
be widely circulated, and we hope our 
temperance friends will take care that 
ihey are so. 

*Thb Chbistian Monthly and Family 
Treabuby. Nelson & Sons. 

We have received three or four num- 
bers of this new serial, and are glad 
to be able to speak of it in terms of 
unqualified praise. It is popular in 
style, but healthy in tone. There is 
'Considerable variety in its contents, 
. and many of the articles are excellent, 
both from a literary and religious 
^oint of view. 

Festival Hymns : a Series of Original 
and Selected Hymns and Tunes for 
School Anniversaries and other Festi- 
val Occasions. By Alfred H. Miles. 
Sunday School Union, 56, Old Bailey. 
Price 4d. 

-Sixteen pieces in all. No twaddle in 
the hymns, and the music melodious, 
well harmonised, pure, simple, fresh, 

-and vigorous. The publication ought 
to be the delight of our Sunday-schools 
for the special occasions which arise in 
ihe course of each year. 

i Sermons to Students and Thouoht- 
VUL Persons. By Llewellyn D. 
Bevan, LL.B., D.D. London : B. D. 
Dickenson, 89, Farringdon Street. 

Before he went to America, Dr. 
&van was known in England and 
Wales, and especially in London, not 
•only as an eloquoit preacher, but also 
.as an original thinker of wide and 

varied culture. We are not surprised, 
therefore, to meet with him as an author 
moving in a by no means unusual path, 
nor are we surprised that in that path 
he maintains his fidelity to Christ as 
the Redeemer and Lord of our human 
life, and as the Guide of the varioru 
modes in which that life may be most 
fitly developed. His '^ Lectures to 
Students " are not only worthy of his 
reputation, but will do much to enhance 
it, and will thus widen his scope for 
Christian usefulness. He starts from 
the conviction — 

"That those whose sphen in Ufs 
reqturet a more ezaet and ezftenaiTe 
mental fcrainlng than the majority of 
people should entertain right views of 
religion, and should, perhaps men than 
any, poasesa the religions spirit For 
their own sakes, religion is the oliief ooa- 
oem, and in respeot to othm^ over whom 
they will some day exerdse a very deep 
and lasting inflnenoe, it is a serioos aril 
if the beat trained minda of the oom- 
munity are either hostile or indifferant 
to the olaima of God." 

From this point Dr. Bevan proceeds 
to consider the relation of religion to 
the cultivation of the intellect, and to 
the study of science, of law, of medicine, 
and of art, and to show how, in the 
intelligent and practical observance of 
that relation, these different ideals of 
life are at once most truly raised, 
sought, and attained. Most writers 
would be open to a charge of j^resump- 
tion if they were to addreas themselves 
to so comprehensive and varied a theme. 
But our author moves over the groond 
without any stumbling, and shows him- 
self to be its master at every stqk. The 
book is not a big one, but it is full of 
noble and wholesome thoughts, ananged 
with perfect orderliness, and eipieaed 
with perfect perajiicacity. 



The Nkw Tebtaiibnt Commsntabt 
lOB English Readbbs. Edited by 
C. J. Ellicott, D.D., Lord Bishop of 
Gloucester and BristoL Part XIV. 
London : Cassell, Fetter, & Galpin. 

Wi Lave at various times commended 
this admirable work. From long 
iiEtmiliarity with it, we are able to speak 
more confidently of its merits. The 
re-isame has now approached the end 
of the Fourth Qospel, but the original 
edition, in three handsome volumes, 
may still be had. Messrs. Cassell 
IiAve in their long list of publications 
not one more really useful than this. 
It puts English readers in possession of 
the exact state and sense of the sacred 
text (thus illustrating the worth of the 
Bevised Veision), aids them by sotmd 
interpretatian, is full of varied suggest- 
iveneas, and applies in a reverent and 
sensible manner the great principles of 
the Gospel to the practical every-day 
conduct of life. The recent appearance 
of the Revised Version will doubtless 
give an impulse to the increased circula- 
tion of this magnum opus. 

Notes on the Gospel History : For 
Sunday-Bchool Teachers, By S. G. 
Qieen,D.D. Fart 11. London: Sun- 
day School Union, 56, Old Bailey. 

This second part of Dr. Green's 
invaluable "Notes" comprises the 
period from the return of the Seventy to 
the Ascension. Dr. Green has long been 
known and tmsted by Sunday-school 
teacheiB as one of their best helpers, and 
every new work from his pen, produced 
with a view to their advantage, is sure to 
be ardently and gratefally welcomed by 
them. The present one is worthy in 
every respect of the celebrity he enjoys 
in this important department of Chris- 

tian literature. To whatever part of it 
we turn, we find it full of apposite in- 
formation and wise suggestion, whilst 
in many ports there is a beautiful fresh- 
ness in the treatment of the Sacred' 
History which invests the book with a 
high value, not only for the special class 
of Christian workers on whose behalf it 
has been written, but for ministers of 
the Gospel, and all who are occupied to 
any extent in more or less publicly- 
expounding God's Holy Word. 

Thx Mosaic Era : a Series of Lectures^ 
on Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and 
Deuteronomy. By John Monro Gib* 
son, M.A., D.D. Hodder & 

Dr. Gibson has addressed himself to a 
very definite, but by no means easy,, 
task, and he has accomplished it in a 
manner which entitles him to the warm 
approval and gratitude of his readers.. 
This, indeed, might have been expected 
from the able author of "The Ages 
before Moses." His aim in both worka^ 
was to " combine the advantages of the 
expository and topical methods, and at 
the same time to secure the benefit or 
eofiUmuous exposition, without wearying 
and discouraging those who have not 
time to dwell on details." The nu- 
merous events in the line of the history 
are treated more or less elaborately 
according to the degred of their im^ 
portance ; and thus we have " in 
outline, and in their organilft relations^ 
the salient features of the eiitire series* 
of Scriptures which give us the history^ 
of the times of Moses." It is a relief 
to follow this history, as thus freshly 
told and expounded, without being 
arrested at every point by being re- 
minded of some critical objection which 



requiies ta be lefoted. Wearegladlor 
once to be allowed ta forget the Gennan 
sceptics and Bishop Colenso, and just 
toyield ourselves, along with our authoTi 
to the weighty and momentons £acts as 
they arise, and the monJ. and spiritual 
teaching they supply. He knows how 
to spiritualise without being fanciful, 
«nd wisely remarks that '^ many of the 
TBgaries of modem ritualism are trace* 
able -to the -want of education on the 
subject of the rites of the ancient 
Church and the light thrown upon 
them in the New Testament" The 
work is admirably printed and bound, 
and comprises 380 pages worthy of 
careful perusal from the first to the 

The Hiddeh Bible and other 
Stories : MemoridU of Suffering for 
Consciene^ Sake, By Frances M. 
Savill, Author of ** Lilian Mortimer," 
^ Jenny's Journal,*' &c London : 
John Snow,' 2, Ivy Lane, Paternoster 

We Tegtet that this fascinating little 
book has been unaccountably over- 
looked. We read it with deep in- 
terest on its reception, some three 
months ago^ and were prepared to give 
it an. unreserved and hearty commen- 
dation* The stories are five in-numbeiH- 
''The Hidden Bible : an* Incident in the 
Time of the Spanish Inquisition;" 
'''Two Brothers: a Story of the Plague 
of . Xiondon ; " *' Faithful and True, f ov, 
the Huguenot Galley^slavQ ; '* " Enaes- 
tine Bf>usBel< a Story of the Seventeenth 
Century;^ and "Dorothy Waidour; 
or, Three Hundred Years j^" {Few 
of our writers surpass Ftanoes Safvfll in 
the purity of styl^ the condensedi yet 
easyi devebpment of deta^tiia pic- 
tniesquenesB of .drfii>eatiop»..apd the 

thorough tewlthinftss of seatimeBt 
which dbe tells stories like those before 
us. AnoAer excellence of her iwritmgs Lb 
that they strengthen oar attachment to 
genuine Protestantism, and our resolve 
to do everything in our power to main- 
tain it in these sad days of its peril 

The Voice of Science os Tbxper- 
▲MCE. The Voice of -the Pulpct 
on Tskpsrance. Beugioits ahd 
Educational Aspects of Texpeb- 
▲NGE. The History of ToASTCia ; 
or, Drinking of Healths in. Eng^nd. 
By Various Authors. Tlie Natiosal 
Temperance League's Annual for 
1881. Edited by Bobert Bae, Secre- 
tary of the League. London : Na* 
tional Temperance Publication Depot, 
337, Stnnd. 

The committee of the National Tem- 
perance League have acted wisely in 
issuing a series of popular manuak on 
the great and momentous subject com- 
mitted to their trust The temperance 
reformation is a question in which we 
are all interested, and, keenly as it has 
recently been debated, it will, we 
believe, rise into still higher .promi- 
nenee. It must be calmly, impartially, 
and ethausdvely discussed, and from 
everypoBsible standpoint — the scientific, 
the social and political, the nunal and 
xaligious. .Theadnuiahle.tnanaBlssow 
on our table oontain the. xesnlta qf the 
latest BMearoh, eondncted by inch 
anthoriiiAB ,as Dr. Noobml Ku^ Dr* 
Bidge^and DcRichaxdaonrtheelotnent 

end impKssiveaBnasns of OananPaoaif 
OKDon Wilber£oxee, Dr. Sinolair Pftler- 
son^andllr. CSittaai ; the e^emaces 
of sneh ^philanthiopiistB as thelsteSir 
Charles. Beed, Six EdwasdBaina^ Dr. 
¥al9if I!reoch,.ftc W«adOvaotkBowof 



a dn^e point in toniKGtkm -with the 
controf 6ny on which Hght inay not 
hare he found, And, thoiigh' the argu- 
ments of the iq^ken may not eairy 
udfenal convictioiii' we aare penmaded 
that they will- add to the temx^erance 
wi f ormerB '"a great eompany," and 
k erery way advance the claims -of 
this ipost important and urgent 
-qnestien, to whi^ no patriot^ no 
philanthropist, aiiid, abcrre all, no 
Chrisliiui can be indiffeicfut. In the 
Annual there is a snccinct history of 
the temperance movement and a num- 
her of capital jxapers. Such literature 
ag this cannot be tOiO widely eirculatad. 


1880: a Memorial of the Celebra- 
tioxis held in London, the Provinces, 
and the Colonies. London : Sunday 
School Union, 56, Old Bailey. 

1^ SQOcess of the Sunday-school 
Centenary fiervioeslxBt year surpassed 
the siost sangoise eaipectalions of their 
pramoteEiB, and an impulse -vras given 
to. the work tA Ohiistian instraction 
vkish has tktMcj resulted in inoreased 
efficiency and created a widespl^ead 
determination that our Sunday-schools 
shall, by God's blessing, become all that 
they ought to be. These memorial 
^rrices themselves deserve a memorial, 
-and it would be impossible to find one 
more appropriate than the present 
Yolume. It contains a brief l»st(^-of 
the establishment and progress of Sun- 
<lay-8chools both in our own and other 
hmds, gives a rimsmlk of the methods 
employed and the results achieved, 
details the steps which led to the ser- 
vices of last year, and summarises the 
pnndpal sermons, speeches, and papers 
in connection wiUi them. Such a mass 

of sovnd, jitdidoos thought, wise 
eouusel, fruitful suggestion, and earnest 
'appeal in relation to every possible 
aspect of Sunday-school WDik has 
never* before been presented in a single 
volume. The sight of such a work 
would have filled the' heart of Robert 
Hftikes with unutterable joy. Every 
teacher ought to possess it for himself 
and make it an indispensable vadt 
niecum. Such contributions as those of 
Dr. Vincent, Dr. John Hall, Mr. B. W. 
Dale, Mr. Clifford, .Mr« Spu]!9Bon,.are 
aimply invaluable. If oar organiBa- 
tions, our methods,- our spint, and. our 
successes in this branch of Christian 
labour do not reach ^ the highest 
possible,'' it is not for lack -of wise and 
adequate direction. Prefixed to the 
volume is a photograph of the Baikes 
Memorial Stetue on the Thames Em- 
hanbadefit. The reeoid. 6f the Centenary 
Services is, as we have reason to know, 
&r from complete. Many friends eetit 
in no report of what they did; but there 
is probably no important omission, and, 
in -view of the fJEicts narrated, we are 
boind to thank God and takecoura^^'e. 

Thb Opium Smoker. Twelve Illus- 
trations. Showing the Ruin our 
Opium Trade with China is bringing 
on that Country. London: S. W. 
Partridge, Paternoster Row. Price 

Wb should like this pamphlet to cir- 
culate by thousands. As a specimen of 
Chinese art, it is worth many times its 
cost; but it has an altogether higher 
than an artistic value. Its beautifully 
executed engravings depict the career 
of the opium-smoker from his ruddy 
youth to the time of his becoming a 


ghastly skeleton ; and if such a repie- 
scntation, which is in no sense ezag* 
geiated| does not open the eyes of the 
English nation to the temble evils of 
this nefarious traffic, nothing wilL We 
should agitate and agitate until our 
Qovenunent is free from all complicity 
in so iniquitous and soul-destroying 
source of revenue. 

OuTLDiB M18BIONABT Series. China. 
By the Bev. J. T. Gracey, M.A. 
Indian Zenana Minions, By Mrs. 
£. Raymond Pitman. Madagascar, 
By the Bev. John Sibree. London : 
John Snow & Co., Ivy Lane, Pater- 
noster Bow. 

In this age of handbooks we have met 
with none which are likely to be more 
generally useful than these ^* Outline 
Missionary Series.*' Their aim is to 
give in pamphlet form, and at the cost 
of 8ix])ence, the best and latest informa- 
tion of the work which is being accom- 
plished in our various mission fields; 
to describe the country, the people, the 
religious systems under which they 
were trained, the introduction and 
progress of the Qospel, the character of 

the converts and the prospects of fatare 
success. The writers have been selected 
on the ground of their special aptitude 
for their task. The numbers hdate us 
are admirable, combining deames^ 
with brevity, accuracy and fulness with 
simplicity, fidelity to the Gospel with 
loving and generous sympathy for all 
men. As aids to missionary addreeseB 
—especially at our monthly prayer- 
meetings — these pamphlets will be in- 
valuable. We could neither have nor 
desire anything better. 

Jubilee Hall ; or, There's no Flace^ 
like Home : a Stoxy for the Toong. 
By the Hon. Mrs. Greene. London: 
T. Nelson & Sons, Paternoster Row. 

A WELL-conceived, well-written, and 
thoroughly healthy story, inculcating 
the great lessons of honesty, straigfat- 
forwardness, and obedience to our con- 
science. Fred, '' the sneak " of the stoiy^ 
involves himself in disgrace and miseiy, 
until he is at length led to confess his 
misdoings and amend. AU our boys 
and girb will be the better for reading 
so simple, so natural, and yet so power* 
fnl a story as this. 



AUGUST, 1881. 


HE address of Bishop Ellicott — ^reprinted at length in the 
July number of this Magazine — on the Revised Version 
of the New Testament is a valuable contribution to the 
history of a subject in which all intelligent Christians are 
increasingly interested. It gives a lucid and succinct 
account of the various efforts which have been made for well-nigh 
350 years to perfect the noblest of our literary, not less than of our 
religious, treasures — ^the translation of the Book on which, more than 
on any other possession, the greatness of the English nation depends. 
The origin of the most recent of these efforts — ^the result of which, so, 
to as the New Testament is concerned, we have now before us — is 
generally £amiliar, but Bishop Ellicott, speaking as Chairman of the 
New Testament Company, has thrown much welcome light on the 
principles on which it is based, and the manner in which those 
principles have been applied. A calm and careful perusal of his 
address will tend to allay many needless fears, to overcome many 
strong prejudices, and to secure for the version a wider and heartier 

A mere acquaintance with the names of the men who formed the 
Ifew Testament Company would lead us to expect that their work 


338 The Revised New Testament 

would be favourably received. They were selected on the ground of 
their specific fitness for the task, and their fitness had in various 
ways been well proved, and was in each case generally acknowledged. 
In point of scholai*ship, intellectual power, and devout Christian 
character, no more competent body of men could have been found. 
Attd though the movement priginated in the Upper Hcuse bf the 
Convocation of Canterbury, it has been carried on in a thofonghlj 
catholic and unsectarian spirit. The members of Convocation were 
" at liberty to invite the co-operation of any eminent for scholarship, 
to whatever nation or religious body they may belong,** and to the 
spirit of this resolution there has been, we believe, from first to last, 
a manly and generous loyalty. All the Churches — Episcopalian, 
Presbyterian, Methodist, Congregational, Baptist, and Unitaiian— have 
been ably represented by men in whom they have thorough confidence. 
The Boman Catholics would also have been represented had not 
Dr. Newman declined the honour offered hiuL A company which 
includes Archbishop Trench, Bishops lightfoot and Ellicott, Dean 
Stanley, Dr. Vaughan, Canon Westcott, Mr. Hort, Dr. Scrivener, 
Dr. Angus, Dr. Milligan, Dr. Vance Smith, and Professors Boberts 
and Moulton could not fail to accomplish its task with eq^aal fidelity, 
skill, and piety. Any work which bears the i/mprimaJwr of meh 
men must claim, not only the favourable consideration, but the 
grateful appreciation, of all who ^aem to possess the Word of God in 
its purest and most perfect form« Ilr is pleasing to be aasur(*d on the 
authority o{ the <:hairman — what, indeed, we had learned ftom other 
sources — that, "amidst ceaseless differences of opinion and countleas 
divisions, the brotherly feeling andiiarmony that prevaikd remainei 
unimpaired to the very end." 

Bishop Ellicott mentions several features of the Bevised New^ 
Testament which^ in our- criticism of its merits, ought to be casefollj 
borne in mind. Ko change traa to be made or retained ia the final 
revision unless tto<hthirds of those present approved of the ssafe 
In every detail the aim was ** to express a corporate and ooUective 
judgment" — the judgment ,of men sitting togt^ther and arci^iqg^ 
a decision only after the most jpatient,.honest, and fearless dutcnsBimi. 
There is not, we are aasared,.''a hastily arrived at judgmeot to be 
found in any page of the Bevised Version." The work has actually 
gone through -seven revisions. Besnlts thus deliharatflljr xeached 
should not be hastily depreciated. We should at.least weitgh them 

Tht Rmsed New TesbgmenL 359 

with ft caie and palaeiioopcBpoKtiaiisd totSiafeivluchfawlieen be^ 
npoQ them by the BeriaeFS. *' A faMlilj soisttd at jaagment"* is, on 
every ground, to be deprecated. 

It cottld scarcely be expeoted that a uraik of fliis nature would be 
received with aniveKal furunr. On. the one hand, there axe many 
devout Ciuietiaiie who aee no necessity for it. They are thottrnghly 
satisfied with the old wiHton, and cling to it with min<*led veneration 
and love. They have been familiar with it from their childhood. 
It is associated with their deepest and moat hallowed memories. Its 
words awaketied them from their epiiitmil torpor, and qnickaned 
them with the inspiration of lu^a It gave utterance to their feelings 
of contrition, and reliei^ them of their tormenting sense of guilt. 
It has consoled them in innumerable -soizowsi and sanctified their 
brightest joys. It has taught them the tme mmming and worth of 
life, and quelled their fear of death. They naturally, therefore* invest 
it with a sacredn^ss which can attach to no other book ; and to alter 
its beautiful and familiar words aeenra to them little diort of sacrilege. 
It is (to use the simile of an eksqusnt kctusr, who was himself 
strongly opposed to revision) as if one should seek to remove from 
the home, or to destroy, " the old arnndiair," aiound which a thousand 
teader and ennobling associations gather. Others, who aie by no 
means insensible to the imperfections of the Authorised Version, 
have deprecated a revision because of the disturbing effect it wouM 
have on the public mind. They fear that it will unsettle men's 
&itb, and produce a general Gseliqg of uncertainty in legard to the 
truths revealed . by Gpd ; and, satiier than nm so great a risk, Ihey 
would retain the old translation, and ieave it to schdazs and preacfaexB 
to give a more accumte reDdedng osoecseion may. require.. 

On the other hand» there are men ^0 care littite eitber for trBdition 

or aentimeati who axe always eager ior change, end impaitient of the 

>^ow preoesaes by-which alone, it can be wisely and safely ensmnl 

They are, as devotees of " the onodem scientifio spirit,'' unwilling Id 

be trammelled by tdie methods and us^gsa of the past, and would 

ruthlessly throw aside.allrestzaint Then jnig^t faa little harm in 

their '"oachaitesed freedom" if than mtads werft as foee as tbey 

imagine. Bat they are under the. inAueBce <tf a very atnmg xufl 

peie^tible bias, and sQect e veiy tiung which doea not harmonise witfa 

it. The thimogjbBass to whieh thex clamour is thoronghBess in 

bvour of their owa viewA Several able critidams have appeased, 


340 The Revised New Testament. 

in which the influence of dogmatic prepossessions is plainly visible, 
and the work of the Bevisers depreciated solely because of its ortho- 
doxy and conservatisuL 

But, notwithstanding this diversified hostility, the Bevised Version 
is steadily working its way towards general acceptance. Its uBe, 
even during the short time we have had it in our possession, has had 
a powerful efifect on public opinion ; and there is in many influential 
quarters a belief that it will, in the course of a few years, establish for 
itself a strong and impregnable position, 

A fine testimony to the impartiality of the work is seen in the 
criticisms passed upon it by representatives of conflicting schools 
of religious thought Scarcely in any quarter has satisfaction been 
expressed with every detail of the revision, but there has been a very 
general acknowledgment of the validity of the results reached. Each 
party, it is strange to note, sees in it a confirmation of its own 
beliefs. Thus, the JewiA World affirms that '' the chief changes tell 
in favour of Judaism. The new version is in many ways an addi- 
tional confirmation of the position the Jews have always taken up in 
denying the extravagant claims of the followers of Jesus." The 
TcMet sees in it '' a decided approximation in a multitude of instances 
to the rendering of the Catholic Vulgate." The Christian Zt/^-the 
oigan of the Unitarians — says, " We have every reason to rejoice at 
its appearance. To the long and steadily accumulating series of 
' Concessions of Trinitarians ' a comprehensive addition has now been 
made, bearing an authoritative stamp which will give enormous 
weight to its testimony wherever it may go. . , • Certainly the 
volume will produce some alarm in sundry strongholds of accepted 
orthodoxy. • • , It practically amounts to a re-setting of the 
traditional foundations of Christian theology." The WaJtdvmn, 
speaking on behalf of the Wesley an Methodists, affirms that ''Nothing 
now proposed will cause the New Testament of the future to difier in its 
truth from that of the past. The old doctrines are untouched, and 
the old promises are unchanged. Eveiything abides — ^nothing passes." 
Similar expressions of gratification nught be quoted from the B/tcordt 
the Nonconformist and Independent, the Freeman, and various other 
English newspapers — to say nothing of our American contemporaries, 
which, as a rule, are more warmly and uniformly eulogistic than critics 
on this side the Atlantic. The phenomenon is remarkable, but not 
inezplicablp. It suggests many curious and profitable reflections on 

7%^ Revised New Testament. 341 

vhich we cannot here enlarge, but on one point it is decisive — the- 
iigid impaitialitT' of the Revisers. It is, of course, impossible that 
the work should be absolutely favourable both to Judaism and 
Christianity, to Soman Catholicism and Protestantism, to Unitarian^ 
ism and Trinitarianism, to orthodoxy and heterodoxy, but the satis* 
faction of the most competent and candid critics of these various- 
adiools arises from the fact that the Bevisers have done their work 
without any undue bias, and have sought to make it in all cases 
harmonise with the requirements of truth and of fact. Their methods 
have been soundly scientific ; their spirit reverent, and faithful ; and 
the results, therefore, apart from all sectional interests, axe such as 
truth and right demand. Our own impression, not hastily formed, 
is that the Bevised Version will, in the end, be found to confirm every 
article of our Evangelical fiuth. 

We cannot, indeed, endorse Bishop EUicott's assertions that " the- 
effect to the general hearer or reader will be hardly perceptible/' and 
that " the actual amount of change will scarcely ever be felt or recog- 
nised." Even if the changes were much less thorough than they are, the- 
effect would be palpable. Very slight alterations, such as the substitu- 
tion of one word for another — e.^., "anxiety" for "care," "love" for 
"charity," " hypocrisy " for " dissimulation," " robbers " for " thieves," 
"glass " for "mirror,""run" for "havefreecourse" — ^the useof thedefinite 
article, the omission or insertion of a conjunction, may be keenly felt. 
Still more must we be sensible of the correction of mistranslations, such 
as "flock " for " fold," "get" for " possess," "against myself" for "by my- 
self," "leadethusintriimiph" for "causethusto triumph," "theinterroga- 
tion of a good conscience" for "the answer of a good conscience." These- 
are all among the minor alterations, and yet they are sure to strike the 
ear and the eye. The version will necessarily lack the familiarity of its 
predecessor. If the changes are imperceptible, it would not have been 
worUi while to make them, and the labour of twenty-four learned men, 
extending over a period of ten years, would be able to give a very poor 
account of itself. The Bevisers certainly cannot be charged with 
recklessness. They have endeavoured to act as far as possible on the- 
principle of continuity, and to make the new and the old so blend 
that the venerable aspect of the one should not be altogether lost in 
the stricter fidelity and greater accuracy of the other ; but we can 
never persuade ourselves that the one is the other. Continuity is not 
identity, and we should not like to pass on the revision so severe af 

342 The Revised Nem Tes/nmeni, 

QDndemnatian as is virtaally^ though not istaiitifliially, conttnifd in 
the vordft to which we alhida We pfe£sr to Teconnneiid the TenioB 
on what seems to us a higi^er and. safer grouxid. Taknog the Bishop's 
estimatei that there i& in thsgpspels an av^mge-of b^ween eight and 
nine changes in every ten:v«s8esv and in the^epietles an avenge of fif- 
to^a for every five vems^ weshouldsay atoaodthat» great and immer- 
one as these changes are, they were — in the judgment of the Reviaos-- 
imperatively demanded, and that we mast, aa intelli$*ent, honesty and 
Qod-£earing men, either aecept tliem or prove than to be needlcsa 
We do not plead for blind submission, or unquestioning de£eteDoe,but 
we may surely take for granted that^ unltea there had been good 
gUQuiid for making tliesa alterations, they would never have been 
sanctioned by a company of our Ibrenmst Biblical scholars, who have 
devoted a considerable pnrt of their lives to the study of this special 
subject, and whose sole desire was. in^ thft wiocds of their c 'haasman, " to 
aet forth with greater eleamesa, foxoe, and freshness the langusge and 
teaching ol the inspired anginal." Tliis is a matter in which we are 
to be swayed by our judgment rather than by our feeling, by fidelity 
to Ood rather than by personal inolination and preference. If the 
Bible be indeed the Word of the living God, an authoiitative 
declsjation of His will, we ought to possess it in its purest and 
most complete form. A corrupt test, a false or inadequate 
rendering, must fad to express the mifid of the Spirit ^^uf 
great Tequirement is to know what Chxiat and Bis aposUes 
really said and did 1 hey are greater thiai any of their transla- 
tions^ howev<rr vaserated. Truth, not beauty, vl our aim; and, if it 
can be shown that the sweet mnaacal cadeutea of the Authorised 
Version are on this score defeetive and nialeadiug, we muat be 
willing to give them up for othor and more aemmtte iorms. If the 
Bavisera have, as one reviewer asserts, naniifiriMl a& associations and 
induenees "at the shrine of pedantry and vanity," their work will 
soon pass into deserved fiorgetfulness ; but if tlierv have aimed at a 
faithful and accurate representation of the original text, as we believe 
they have, their work will live, »d gradually gather round it aMoeis- 
tioiia as hallowed and inspiring as tbise whose disappeaianoe ve 
now hear laiucnted. Shall wa ailow, in tiia ease of the atcfed 
Seripttttes, with their angost SBithoEity, aad tfae monientous iBaaca 
dependent upon tlem, a rnle which woald not for a moment be 
toleiatad in the study of a rlaiairal aut&ar ? Wespphntd the labeins 

Tke Revised New TestamenL 3 ^3 

of wSaxixn who qpend yean of reseaxeh m endeavouihig to reproduce 
the exact text 4if ifilecbylus or Sophocles, of Demosthenes or Thucy- 
didea» of Livy or Viigil, of Dante or Shakespeasie. Is no such labour 
to be oxpaided on the Kew Testament ? For the sake of music and 
ihythm, of literary beauty and grace, are we to dieregaxd the demands 
of faet and trutii ? To us it seems that sueh a spirit is as disloyal 
to Christ a» it is unscientific. It savours of a zeal which is not 
aocordiitg to knowledge, and erects a fitrmidable barrier between the 
disciple, whose duty it is to leaxn and obey, and the Master, whose 
pxerogativB it is to direct, to counsel, and to command 

The Authorised Version was at one time an innovation, and had 
to eneounter stem and unrelenting opposition. It would be well 
both for the friends and enemies of the present revision to bear in 
mind the manner in which the venerable translation of 1611 was at 
the time received. The translators say, in their Preface — 

Zeal to promote tho common gopd, whather it be by devisiiig anything our** 
selves or revirtiiig that which hath beeu laboored by othtors, det>ervKth certainly 
much respect and est em, but yet findeth but cold entertainment in the world. 
It is welcomed with RiiBpicion instead of love, and with emulation insteHd of 
tbuikft ; and it there be any hole left for cavil to enter (and cavil, if it do not find 
a liole, will make o^fe), ic is sare to be miecoustroed, and in danger to be con* 
denmed. This will easily be.giaiited by aa many as know history or have 
openence. For was theit^ ever anything projected that savoured any way of 
newuess or renewing, but the same endured many a atuzm of gainsaying or 
opposition ? 

Again, the timid conoBrvotiveS' are represented as asking — 

Hath the Church been deceived all tlvia while) Bath her sweetbread been 
mingled with leaven, l>er silver with dioBi<, her wine with ^^att-r, her milk with 
line? We boptd that we had been in the right way, that we had had the 
Qnttieaoi' Gou del. venal nnto na, and that, thultgh alL the woild had cause to be 
ofieudtd and coniphtin^ yet we had zuDnis^ Bath the bnad been delivered by the 
fathered ol the Church, and the came pivived to be tiuam ? What is it to handle 
the Word uf God deceitfully if this be not ? 

fing^ Bcoug^n, who was nnipiestionably one of the most learned 
Mn of his day, wrote bitterly i^aiiist the work* " The late BiUe 
^as sent me to censui®, wbick bted in me a sadness which will grieve 
iBe while 1 breathe. It is so ill done.. Tell his Majesty that I had 
nither ^le rent in pieces with mid hofses than any such translation, 
M ^7 conaent, should be urged on poor chuiclies." Dr. Geli acoused 

344 The Revised New Testament 

the translators of literary inefiBiciency, objecting to their inveision oS 
the order of words^ to their constant use of supplemental and 
explanatory terms, and, above all, to their doctrinal perveisions. 
Selden considered it '* a translation into English words rather than 
into English phrase,'' and dwelt with considerable force upon it» 
inaccuracies. Erom the dedication to King James we learn Uiat the 
translators expected to be " traduced by Popish persons at home and 
abroad,'" and to be '' maligned by self-conceited brethren, who nm 
their own ways, and give liking unto nothing but what is framed by 
themselves." They looked also for the King's favour to support them 
" against bitter censures and uncharitable imputations." And their 
worst anticipations were speedily fulfilled. Our present Beviseis have 
assuredly no need to be discouraged. They have not provoked half 
such hiurd censure as was showered upon tiie men whose work they 
are said to have spoiled, Eor many years it seemed as if the 
Authorised Version would be allowed to drop into complete n^lect. 
The Genevan Bible acquired a hold on the people which it vas 
difficult to relax. Neither the Bishops' Bible nor King James's could 
supplant it. It was used both in churches and in families, and an 
edition of it was printed so late as 1644. So strongly did the people 
cling to it that Archbishop Laud made the vending, binding, and 
importation of it a High Commission crime. 

We should betray a strange ignorance of human nature, and be 
blind to the teachings of history, if we expected the present revision 
to meet with a widely different reception. But, if its merits be as 
great as we believe them to be, it will slowly and surely work its way 
towards ultimate adoption by the public, and to a place, not only of 
honour among our English versions, but even of pre-eminence. 

In a very little time we shall become familiar with the alterations 
which have been made. The sense of strangeness will pass away. 
Excellences will be brought to light, a deeper insight will be gained 
into the meaning of the Divine Word, and we shall be enabled to 
bring forth from it '' treasures new and old." It must also be remem- 
bered that the revision has been made, not only in the interests of 
the present generation, but of those who shall follow us. It will be 
used by children who have not as yet any prepossessions in favour of 
either one translation or another. It will become to them what the older 
work has been to us, and in the course of a few years it will prob- 
ably be defended by an intelligence, a gratitude, and an enthusiasm 

" The Evil Oner 345 

which will make its position secure. We do not regard it as perfect. 
It is well that it should be subjected to a dose and searching criti- 
cism ; and^ after the temporary excitement has subsided, and the 
opinion of the public has been matured by a process of calm and 
impartial investigation and reflection, the Bevisers themselves will 
probably see that it needs here and there to be retouched before it 
can take the place for which it is designed, and for which, in the main, 
it is admirably fitted. 

J. Stuart. 

A DIALOGUE : June 6th, 1881. 

R THOMPSON. — ^"Have you seen our rector's sermon 
on *The Sevised Version of the Lord's Prayer,' as 
reported in last week's Chronick ? " 

Mb. Wallace.—" Yes, I have ; and, though it dis- 
plays Mr. Gurney's well-known intellectual ability, I 
must say that I think it a most unsatisfactoiy treatment of the 

Mr. T. — ^"Well, perhaps I ought not to be surprised at such an 
opinion on your part, as I am aware that there are not many theo- 
logical questions on which you and the rector agree." 

Mr. W. — ** I hope you do not intend to imply by your remark that 
my mind is obstinately closed against all fresh light, and that I am 
so much of a bigot as to consign all who theologically difPer from me 
to the tender mercies of the devil." 

Me. T. — ** No ; I would not be uncourteous enough to iasinuate so 
much as that. But my experience of orthodox people leads me to 
suspect that they are not very readily convinced of the error of any 
opinion which bears the stamp of orthodoxy, or of the truth of any 
opinion which has been stigmatised as heterodox. But this is a point 
which we need not discuss. You have read Mr. Gurney's sermon, 
and I am glad to find you admitting that it is quite up to lus high 
intellectual mark." 
Mfi. W. — '* The admission is cordial enough, but it does not amount 

346 " Tk€ Evtl Oner 

to nnieb. For, thot^h Mr. Gumey is a saperior man^and has broaf^t 
his ability to bear upon the subjuct^ yet I da not hesitate to say that 
be has entirely establish his objection to the 'revision 'in 
questiim, for the simple reason that he has based his ceasoniiig upon 
pduciples whiuh are utterly unteiiabl&" 

Mb T. — '' Indeed ! Are you sure of that ? If you can prove what 
you say, of oourae the sermon becomes worthless. But it seemed to 
me, as I read it, that he had treated the subject in a very sensible 
manner, and 1 fully agree with him in the remark that 'this 
particular revision will be regarded as one of the blemishes of what, 
on the whole, is a good and useful piece of work.' " 

Mr. W. — " Of course it will be so roj^r^led by some — ^by all, ind»*ed, 
who, like Mr. Gumey, address themselves to the scrutiny of it under 
the pressure of the conviction that.the person who is understood to 
be designated by the phrase, ' the Evil One,' has no existence. Such 
sceptics are, intellectually and morally, as unHtted to accept 'this 
particular reviiioa' as an Atheist or a Paotbeibt is to accept the 
Bible as a Divine reveiation. This, in fact, is exactly the position 
which Mr. Gurney assumes. I will quote his words. After depre- 
cating the change in the translation on the ground that the fonn of 
the prater, as it stands in the Authorisni Version^ is so 'titner 
hallowed ' as to be sacred — a mode ol reasoning, by-the-way, which 
is not always as convenient to ' inroad Church ' theologians of oar 
rector's stamp as it appeals to be in the pres^it instaiice^rhe goes 
on to say : ' There are, moreover, theolugieal considerations more 
weighty even than the historical which might have stayed the 
Revisers' hand.' What right had Mr. Uumey to demand that the 
Kevisers should be actuated in their work by any ' theolugiQal ooik 
siderations ' whatever ? Iheir business was simply, as scfaolSES, to 
translate, and not, as theologians, to interpret. Did Mr. Quniej 
expect a ' Itevised iNew Taatament ' which should sustain his 
particular theology ? He is evidently disappointed and pdnlaDt 
because, in regard to the. matter in question, it fails to do an." 

Mb. T — !* Well, but wiuit nerd was iheiBior the change? And it 
it not clearly a change fur the worse? As Mr. Gumey aays: 'If 
night and morning we were to pray, " Deliver us ixom the Evil Qb^ 
instead of praying, '' Deliver ns fit>m evil," it would be a fl^nM 
misfortune to the Church an 1 a spiritual loss to each of ua/ Fnrtfaa 
on he says.; ' if the Scvisera' rendering were intiodneed into oax 

'•The Evil Oner 347 

UtuTgy^thdpsaEyer'— -«A,tiieLotd'8 Prayei^-*^ would cease to be a 
symbol of peace and a bond of unioiL It wonld become tbe source 
aood ceotm of controTtersy , and, like tbe Creeds and the Lord's Supper, 
would prove tke cause of fartber uohappj divisums/'* 

Ma. W.— ^*Very likely it would be en. But why? Simply 
Iwarase dure are so many prc^essedly Christian teachers around us 
wliQ will not asaiuiilate their theology to tbe plain teaching of Christ. 
If Mr. Ghiaiey ware to cbdlenge the change in this part of the Lord's 
Prayer on linguistic grouu la. bis objections would deserre recognition 
in proportion to their validity. But he does nothing of the kind. 
Oa the contrary, he acknowledges the weight and the honesty of the 
scholarahip from which the revision has proceeded. ' It must be taken 
as 8 iact/ he eays/ that, in the opinion of the majority of a body 
consisting of some of the best scholars of our day, tbe Greek words of 
the text are most faithfully rendered by ** Deliver us from the Evil 
Qua" ' There, I say, then, tiie matter ought to rest-— at least until a 
aftiil more accurate scholarship is constrained, cm linguistic grounds 
alone, to set the new translation aside. To inject it under the pressure 
of a preconceived theological notion with which it does not happen 
to coalesce would be tantamount to the assumption, 'I consider 
myself wise enough to sit in juilgment on the Lord's Prayer itself, to 
pomt out its theological inaccuracies, and to rectify them.' The 
audacity of such an assumption is amazing.** 

Mb. T. — '' You are hard upon the rector. I am sure he does not 
mean to be irreverent, nor does he pride himselt in his o^n judgment 
ill the xexmlsive way which your words imply. A more theologically 
tolerant man does not exist So tolerant is he that he would have 
all theologies freely represented in bis ot^n church. He is a Liberal 
of the Liberals." 

Mk. W. — '^ My dear sir, believe me, I am no harder upon tbe 
rector than he is upon himseif. I mean that I do nothing more than 
point to the position which he logically occupies. Of course, he is 
what is oalled a ' Compreliensionist.' Deiiyin<r» as I understand hitn 
to do, the existence of an external embodiment or revelation of 
Oivine trutli bearing the stamp of Dhrioe authority, and, therefore^ 
holding that every man is left to dieecyver Uivine truth for himself 
hy the exercise of his own faeultieB aiotte» he ia bound to be widdy 
toleraaty unless he lays daim to a personal iniallibility which he 
cannot concede to those who differ from Mm. With every separate 

348 ''The Evil Oner 

mind theologically independent to the extent which he claims, there 
coidd be no chinch at all except on the Comprehension theoiy. I 
come back to the pointy and say that it is astonnding to me to find 
a Christian clergyman contending that 'there are theological con- 
siderations which might have stayed the Sevisers' hand.' What is 
this but saying, " ' The Evil One ' is a myth, and, therefore, ought 
not to have been introduced into the revised edition of the Lord's 
Prayer ? " Whereas, the business of the Bevisers was, not with the 
question as to whether * the Evil One ' is a myth or not, but with 
the question as to what the original words in Greek really mean in 

Mb. T. — '' But do you not think that there is force in his contention 
that the prayer, 'Deliver us fix)m evil,* is every way a better 
prayer than ' Deliver us fix>m the Evil One ' ? " 

Mb. W. — ^ I reply that that was no part of the matter which the 
Bevisers had in hand. They had simply to translate t3ie words of onr 
Lord as He spoke them, and two-thirds of the Company have given 
the translation to which Mr. Gurney objects, and to which he objects 
(m exdtisivdy theological grownds." 

Me. T. — ** Well, I must say that I agree with Mr. Gurney in his 
rejection of the dogma of the personality of the devil, and, with him, 
I am extremely sorry that the Bevisers have given a form to the 
Lord's Prayer and to other passages which implies that that dogma 
is true, or, at aU events, which implies that it is ScripturaL" 

Mr. W. — " Excuse me, my dear friend, for persistently keeping 
you to the point Our creeds and theological preferences in snch 
a matter ought to go for nothing. The question is as to whether the 
Bevisers have rightly or wrongly translated the words, and that 
question has to be decided apart from all creeds and theological prefer- 
ences. I observe that there is much controversy amongst scholars 
on the question. That controversy is valuable in so far as it proceeds 
on philological grounds alone ; and I am much more inclined to listen 
to a couple of scholarly disputants like Canon Farrar and Dr. Wey- 
mouth on a matter of this kind than to the arguments of a cleigyman, 
however able, who approaches the matter with the feeling that ' theie 
are theological considerations which might have stayed the Bevisers 
hand.' But now, having pressed this point as far as it needs to be 
pressed, I cannot help asking why there should be so strong a repng* 
nance in the minds of men like Mr. Gurney to this old dogma of the 
personality of the devil** 

^' The Evil Oner 349 

liR^ T. — ^" Well, you are aware that this is not the first time that 
Mr. Gtumey has touched upon this dogma in the pulpit T 

Mb. W. — ^^ Yes, I am fully aware of that Nearly four years ago 
he delivered a discourse in the parish church on this subject, which 
was fully reported in the Chronide, and afterwards defended by him 
in a series of important letters occasioned by certain comments which 
the sermon had elicited. I have the sermon and the letters in my 
libraiy, and, with your permission, will fetch them, that we may con- 
tinue the conversation a little longer. • • . Here the papers are. 
I remember that one thing that struck me when I first read them 
was a feeling of surprise at Mr. Gumey's statement, made at the very 
outset, that the dogma of the personality of the devil is one ' which, 
by most educated minds, is now regarded as an exploded error.' 
This is high ground, and I cannot help asking what right Mr. Gumey 
has to occupy it. That some highly intelligent and conscientious men 
repudiate the dogma is true, but that the great majority of them do 
so is, to me, very questionable. So-called ' Rationalist' thinkers, no 
doubt^ regard it as a figment ; but I have yet to learn that the school 
of thought which they constitute absorbs into itself most of the 
educated mind of our time. Mr. Gumey's assertion conveys a reflec- 
tion upon those who retain the dogma which can scarcely be otherwise 
than offensive to them." 

Mb. T. — " Let that pass, and let us come to the question, ' Is the 
dogma true ? ' It may be false, though large numbers of educated 
men thoughtfully and conscientiously hold it." 

Mb. W. — " Precisely so ; and, on the other hand, permit me to say 
that it may be true, though large numbers of educated men thought- 
fully and conscientiously repudiate it." 

Mb. T. — ** I assent to that I see that Mr. Gumey sets it aside on 
the ground that it has no rational foundation." 

Mb. W. — '^ Yes, and he deems it so essentially irrational that it 
cannot be accepted by rational men, even though it be involved in 
the teaching of the Bible. To this position I would offer two replies. 
First, how comes it to pass that, if this belief in the personality of 
the devil be so essentially irrational, it should have prevailed so long 
and so widely ? Mr. Gumey very properly says : ' The devil and the 
demonism of which he is the comer-stone were credited for 2,000 
years by the most intelligent races.' A remarkable fact, surely, and 
one not easily accounted for if the dogma be so essentially irrational 

350 " The Evil Otur 

as Mr. Guxney affirms it to he. Of oourse, die antiqnilT^ and 
popularity of a belief are insofficieiit, t4ikaii by theHieelTea, to piove 
tbe belief true. But suiiely, if. a dxstffa:^, has maintained its.groiind for 
2,000 years amongst the moet ioteUigent xajo^ that may be regarded 
as affording at least eome piesumpticm tbat it ia Jiot grosaly and 
absurdly irrational And tlien, secondly, Mr. Ghimey's aaaerdon 
seems to me to be remarkable for iba speculative aadadty. I, for 
one, cannot detect any inoonsisteiiey with reason in such a 
belief. If we examine ^be. works of God which oome ^hin the 
range of our observation, we £nd them marked by n. regular grada- 
tion. As £obert Hall <d>8erves : ' Tbe distance between us and 
nothing is finite, yet tbe intrarral is occupied and filled tip ^th 
innumerable orders of sesiaitive beings ; how improbable is it, then, 
that the distance between us and Heity, which is infinite, is an empty 
void ! ' Supposing, however, that orders of inteUigenee superior to 
man do exist (and they may, for anything we know to the contraiy), 
and supposing them to have freedom to rebel similar to that wtueh is 
possessed by man, who shall ventuxe to say that none of liiem Ask 
rebelled ? If thqr have, it ia rational to infer that^ like bad men, 
they are actuated by a principle of hostility to the Divine goWB- 
ment. They canned be peaceable oubjects in the realm of God ; they 
will exert their superior powers to inflict harm and damage wheiever 
they can. The most transcendent human powers have bees per- 
verted to the most nefarious and devastating uses. Why should we 
thiuk it incredible that tbe sfune kind of pervamion may ha;vs 
occurred on a slill mosa terrible scale amongst fallen aogeb ? I 
challenge any logician to £nd any element of irrationality in then 
suppositions. Observe, I am not speaking of them at this imsaeA 
as facts, but as possibilities ; and, it they be possible, it ia sheer pie- 
sumption to say that they have not happened, nnless the man that 
says it has authentic inionnation to that effect, whibh nobody pro- 
fesses to have." 

Mb. T. — '' But why xrot follow Mr. Gomey's example, and look at 
the matter in another way ? You know that he objects to the 
doctrine of evil spirits, with. their >chisf at thdr head, on tbe gmiind 
of the goodness of Grod. Bven on the supposition that aaoh wp^ 
do exist, may it not be said that the goodbiess of God requiies tfaoa 
to be so restrained that they diall. have no opportunitj cC inflictiag 
the injuries upon other creataxes of God to vdudt tiiear aalfiahnea^ 

^^ The Evil Oner 351 

their pride, or their malevolence might ptom^ them ? This is the 
position taken by Mr. Guniay» and it is his great aigument tor proving 
that demouism has ' no rational foundatiton/ Dbee anch an aigammt 
go tor nothing ? " 

M& VV. — '' A priori, it may go for samelhing. No doubt it is, 
accordiog to our notious of the matter, the dispositiDaof a true father 
to take the beet possible ease of his children, to keep tnem as far as 
possible out of harm's way, to train them up in habits of righteous- 
ness, to instil into their minds pure aud hoiy principles, and to guard 
them against influences by which their character may be corrupted, 
and by which their career may^ consequently, become one of vice, 
degradation, and mist^ry. It is also natural for us to apply these 
conceptions of a good human fatlierhood to the Fatherhood of God, 
aud 10 associate with them the certain fact that Ue has resources for 
the protection of His children from the ineuisipoa of evil which no 
mere human father can be supposed to possess. But on that supposi- 
tion, with nothing to modify it, this world oi^ht to be a veritable 
Paradise — a glorious heaven, without a sinner, without a sujGerer, 
Without a calamity, no part of it darkened, even for a moment, by the 
shadow of eviL Why should it not be so ? Is not God competent, 
by His power and wisdom, to make it so ? And is He not an 
infinitely good and loving Father ? Yes ; but the iiaciB of the world 
give the most unqualified and, I might add, the most violent contra- 
diction to this aprioit conception of the Fatherhood of God. The 
history of man is largely a history of sin— a history at selfishness, of 
falsehood, of lust, of prufauitgr, of rapine, cf cold-blooded cruelty, of 
assassination, of murder on a large scale in the battle^fiekL It is, 
consequently, to a large extent a history of physical disease, of mental 
agony, of prolonged and complicated woe. All this, the perfect 
Fatherhood of God notwithstanding! The awftil facts of human 
history axe before us. Deny them we cannot You may doubt the 
eziBtence of the devil on the gniund of the Fatherhood of God 
because you have not seen the devil in person. You may disbelieve 
in his agency in the world oa the ground of the Fatherhood of Grod, 
becanse you cannot trace any of the phenomena of the world to him 
in the same demonstrative way in which yon trace s rivei to its 
source. Bat here, in tbie world, are fadta eeeurring, daily and hourly, 
the actuality of whiehyou cannotdoubtyand theharribkness of whidi 
you cannot adequately estimate ; and these ftets arise within the 

352 "TA? Evil Oner 

piedncts of God's family home, and in the experience of His children. 
Mr. Gtimey can cling to the doctrine of the Fatherhood of 
God in the lurid light which is cast npon it by the past and 
present condition of humanity ; and so can I. But neither the one 
nor the other of us can do so on the principle of pure rationalism. 
With what we know of man, the Fatherhood of (rod must be a 
matter of faith — ^not dictated by pure reason carrying on its operations 
by its own light alone ; for that, in the presence of the diead phe- 
nomena of the world, would conduct us into the darkness of scepti- 
cism, as it has before now conducted so many of the strongest and 
noblest minds — ^but a matter of faith, based upon an independent 
revelation which reason itself may be able to authenticate as Divine. 
To me, it is just the same, so far as the character and govermnent 
of God are concerned, whether I am led into evil by mysterious 
impulses in my own heart, or by the temptations of a fellow-man, or 
by the craftiness of a devil. I, for one, am unutterably thankfal 
that, with the teachings of the Bible before me, I can believe in tlie 
Fatherhood of God, even though I am compelled also to believe, on 
the same authority, that no small portion of the evil by which the 
world is afflicted is due to the great ' adversary, the devil, who goeth 
about as a roaring lion seeking whom he may devour.' " 

Mb. T. — "^ But surely you will admit that the peril of humanity 
would not be so great without ' the devil and his angels ' as with 
them ? " 

Mr. W. — ^" Perhaps not so great. I cannot say. At any rate, the 
peril is simply one of degree. The agency of evil spirits is only a 
part of the great mystery of evil, and no more militates against the 
doctrine of the Divine Fatherhood than any other part of the same 
mystery. But what say you of Mr. Gumey's method of dealing with 
the Bible in relation to this question ? " 

Mr. T. — ^" Well, of course he deals with it as our Eationalists 
generally do. But, it seems to me, there is a great deal of plausi- 
bility in what he says. The position he takes is this — ^that, whilst 
the Bible may be properly said to contain a Divine revelation for 
the guidance of man's faith and conduct, yet this Divine revelation 
is mixed up with much that is legendary and erroneous, and to the 
category of the errors it contains, the doctrine of demonism must be 
consigned* In r^ard to the countenance which the teaching of 
Christ is alleged to have given to this doctrine, it is to be supposed. 

" The Evil One:* 353 

says Mr. Gumey, that He has not been accurately leported by His 
biographers, and that, even if He has. He humoured the prejudices of 
His hearers, because they were so wedded to the doctrine that they 
were totally unprepared for its denial." 

Me. W. — '' Yes, you have stated Mr. Gumey's position in this part 
of the argument fairly. But does it not strike you as a very remark* 
able position for a Christian clergyman to take ? " 

Mb. T. — '^ Not particularly remarkable for a clergyman of the Broad 

Mr. W. — *" Ah I you have me there. I had forgotten for the 
moment that the Church of England appears to embrace all varieties 
of religious belief, from the narrowest and stififest Calvinism to the 
coldest and emptiest Theism. I had also forgotten that the men of 
the ' Broad ' section are glad that it is so. How strange that they 
should forget that 'a house divided against itself cannot stani^ 
Even its great wealth will not keep it together for ever. The dis- 
int^rating process has already conmienoed." 

Mr. T. — ^" Be that as it may, I think that Mr. Gumey makes out 
his case when he argues that the doctrine of demonism need not 
be accepted merely because it is taught in the Bible." 

Mr. W. — '* You are aware that he admits that it is taught in the 
Bible, and that the various books of which the Bible is composed 
may have been written by ' inspired ' men ? " 

Mr. T. — " Yes, he does admit that ; but then he says that inspiration 
is no proof of infallibility; from which it follows, of course, that 
a doctrine may be clearly taught in the Bible, and yet be untrue. 
You know with what energy Mr. Gurney labours to upset the error 
which he stigmatises by the name of * Bibliolatry.' " 

Mr, W. — ^''Of course I do, and it seems to me to have been 
a very needless labour. I dare say there have been 'Bibli- 
olaters' — persons who have made a god of the Bible, just as 
other persons have made gods of the sun, moon, stars, and 
other objects in nature. Surely, however, it is possible to recog- 
nise the Bible as the medium through which God has been pleased 
to make special revelations to man without falling into a super- 
stitious use of the Book, and giving to it an idolatrous veneration. 
Tliere is no need to split hairs on the question of Bible infallibility. 
Mr. Gumey admits that the Bible writers were Divinely inspired, and 

I say that that admission ought to carry with it tiie further admis- 


354 '^ The Evil Oner 

sion that ^v^faot tirese iifflpiroS lerfters -sctudlly teacb may be, aifl 
t)ugJittobe, accepted -as*troe. Ifthey have no more a uth ri ri ty -tfaap 
Plato or Shakespeare, thehrinspiration.'for teacfamg'pirposes, is of no 
value to us. It may be an interesting -problem 'so far as the men 
fhemBelves are oonoerned, -as bearing npon the question of QieirTela- 
live greatness ; but it 'is 'not ti problem of any great iiioment'to m. 
According to Mr, Gurirey, doctrine is not to be tested by the BiUe, 
but the teachin);; oflhe Bible is -tobrtested by human reason. If tliis 
be so — if Inspiration has thus to wait on Beason before it can claim, 
cm behalf t)f any .one of its dogmas, any authority overTalth,! am 
'bound to conclude that it is not t)f much practical service, an3 tbst 
we t^uld get along pretty nearly as well without its aid as 
with it." 

'Mr. T. — ^"-If yon disagree with Hr.'Gumeyso strongly on-ti» sub- 
ject of Bible authority, 1 -am afraid you will be still "more imcoui- 
promisingly at issue with him in what he ^ays on the teaching of 
Christ — I mean in relation to the subject we have been diBCUssing* 

Mb. W. — ^" You are-right. 'Mr. Qumey'sremarks on this part of 
the subject are to me distressing in the -extreme. I -regret, too, to 
find the worst element in those remarks reproduced in the lecent 
sermon* It occurs in the -words, * Christ may have taught His 
^disciples to pray, " Deliver us from the 'Evil One,'* but the Spirit that 
was to show us truth, 'whieh 'they could -not bear, has taught 
•US to pray, "Deliver us from evit"' What -am I to infer 
from this! I can infer -ncfthiBg leas than the allegation tbat 
Christ did teach that which lie Jmew . to be false ! ^nd vliy 
did He do eo ? Solely to nBCommudate 'Himself to the prejudices 
of the people! He trorrected their 'errors 'on other matten, 
and that, too, at the risk of His popularity; why not on this? 
He was not even silent. All the evidence goes to &ow tlist 
He gave to the doctrine of 'demonism^ His open -and unqualified 
sanction. He had tothinkof the needs of after-^ages as well as of Bis 
own. Ten elcar words from His lipa wonld have put the -ban iJpoD 
this tbctrine, and there would hove been direct and positive antboiit; 
of the highest kind against it -wherever Christianity -might fnd i^ 
^way. Thus the cnnr of CSmittendBm tm this question, -rfhifli ta 
lasted fcr nearly 2;00O-7»8r8'(lf -it be^an xrroi^.wouH have had to 
&ce the test df on emphatic denial from the Tttvine Hmnfler 'of 
Christianity, and under ^at rSenial ifr-would have long ago periftci 

Nonconformist Bi^^grttphy: John Howe. 355 

He withheld it ; and the iact that He did- so is ^uflbsient «to stamp 
the dociriae as one ibttnded in trntiL" 

Mk. T. — " I arngBeatly obliged to 700 for going so fully into this 
matter, and will give jroixr aTnuraenls my best'eonaidemtioa'' 

Mb. W. — '' Thank yon for lioteningito me «o patiently. I have not 
spoken disparagingly of Mr. .Gumsy. The respect I entertain for 
liiin on many accounts nnroald guard me agaioBt any unbecoming 
temper in animadverting npon his teaching, though I am compelled 
to consider diat much: of it is. not anVy argomentatively untenaBle, 
bat morally dangerous. He pvefars the prayer, ' Deliver us from 
evil; to the pmyer, ' Deliver us ifrom the Evil One,' I, for one, am 
thankful that neither x>f these prayers 'excludes the other, and that the 
great Father. in heaven ileljghtSvto hear them both from His tried and 
tempted chiLdbren." Editor, 

^S^w £ABLY adentnry ago there lived in Scotland a somewltat 

^w» ecceataic, but withal godly, man whom Sir Walter Scott 

^\^i. 'has.nuideiamiliaT to the readers of his works under the 

^^ sobriq^iei ef ''iOld Mortality," but whose real name wau 

' Robert f atteraen. To this man had been told in earlv 

life the sad and painful stoiy t>f the s nfl e r ings which, for conscience' 
sake, his pious fathe]i8.had been compeUsd to undergo, and the resolve 
liad fixed itself deeply ^n his .heart to do what in him lay tx) per- 
petuate, the memory of their gnand and noble heroism. He was but 
a common stonemason, but, by :xiint of hard work and 'oareAil thtift, 
he was able to save enough to set himself free for a few years from 
the pressure of his daily calling. Henceforward, his life, though 
invested with a higher dignity, 'Was scarcely less laborious than it 
had been before. With hammer and chisel he went from place to 
place where the martyrs of his^xmntiy w«re bnried, and, with loving 
toil, cleared away the motttaad HUMmwhinh bad gatheied about dieir 
graves, and tnu»d vtbeir aames af nash on the lude heaistones, that 
every passe»>by might leod the mcord and help to Joeep their niemoiy 



356 Nonconformist Biography: John Howe. 

Now, perhaps, it may be thought by some of the readers of these 
pages that no " Old Mortality " is needed to bring to the recollection 
of the Christian Church, and especially to that portion of it to which 
we ourselves belong, the great and mighty heroes who, more than two 
centuries ago, suffered in its behalf, and secured for it the freedom 
and the peace which it now enjoys. And yet I suspect — ^nay, I know 
— ^that on the part of very many true-hearted and zealous Noncon- 
formists there is an almost entire ignorance concerning the noble 
band of men who, in 1662, came forth from the Church of England 
to whose unscriptural doctrines and Popish rites they could no longer 
conscientiously conform, and laid with much anxious toil, and amidst 
many bitter trials, the broad and deep foundations of that Noncon- 
formity which, next to the coming of the Gospel to our shores, Iia» 
been the richest blessing this country has ever had, and in the pro- 
fession and practice of whose principles it is one of our dearest 
delights to live. 

In this paper I purpose calling the life of .a Noncon- 
formist hero and divine, whose name is, or ought to be, familiar to 
every one of us. Of the memorable *' Two Thousand " who were 
ejected from the Established Church in 1662, there were many who, 
both intellectually and spiritually, stood out 8aul-like above their 
brethren ; but unquestionably the greatest and grandest of them all 
was John Howe. Endowed with a physical frame imposing in its 
stature, and with a countenance remarkable for its beauty, gifted 
with a mind of exquisite refinement, and capable of soaring into the 
highest regions of thought, and possessing a soul which seemed to be 
without speck or flaw — ^tender as the morning light, pure as the 
driven snow— -John Howe rises pre-eminent amongst the divines of 
his generation. Of him might be said with but little extravagance 
what was once said of Sir Isaac Newton : 

'* So near tlie gods, man cannot nearer go." 

The life of such a man, cast as it was in one of the stormiest periods 
of English history, and consecrated as it was to the loftiest ends to 
which human energies could be devoted, cannot fail to excite our 
interest, to instruct our minds, and to improve our hearts. 

To every admirer of John Howe it is a source of deep r^ret that 
so little can be learned respecting his personal history. Of some men 
a great deal too much has been recorded ; large volumes have leeu 

Nonconformist Biography: John Howe. 357 

filed with details, one half of which are too commonplace and trivial 
to be worth reading. Of John Howe it would be impossible to write 
more than a brief memoir, for not only had he no Boswell to note 
down his sayings and to collect facts for his biography, but he him- 
self, a short time before his death, insisted upon the destruction of a 
Iwge nimiber of manuscripts, containing, in his own handwriting, a 
minute account of his life from its earliest years. What we do 
know of him, however, is interesting in a high degree, and brings 
him before us as one of the loveliest and noblest of his kind. 

He was bom in the quiet town of Loughborough on the 17th of 
May, 1630, a few weeks after Charles I. made peace with France, 
and three years before the notorious Laud was promoted to the 
archiepiscopate. At the time of his birth, his father was the incum- 
bent of the parish, and, from what we can learn, was a hard-working 
and deservedly respected man. But, wherever the influence of Laud 
extended, hard work and spiritual worth counted for little in com- 
parison with ecclesiastical mummeries and Popish innovations. The 
one supreme aim to which he had evidently set himself was to 
assimilate the Church of England to the Church of Bome. With 
this aim the father of John Howe had not a spark of sympathy, and 
so Laud, who had before appointed him to the living, mercilessly 
tamed him adrift. With the sharpest sorrow Loughborough was 
left, and, as there was no hope of living peacefully in England imder 
the ban of Laud, an asylum was found in Ireland. After residing 
for some time in Ireland, father and son, owing to the rebellion 
which was raging in that unhappy country, were compelled to seek 
once more a home in England. They took up their abode, it is 
supposed, in Lancashire, and in the month of May, 1647, the son, 
being then in his seventeenth year, entered Christ CoUege, Cam- 
bridge, the collie to which the great Puritan poet Milton had 
previously belonged. Here young Howe applied himself earnestly 
to study, and became the intimate Mend of Henry More and other 
distinguished Platonists, the influence of whose opinions upon him 
iHay be traced almost everywhere in his writings. In less than two 
years he graduated, and then left Cambridge for Oxford, where he 
soon won for himself a reputation for scholarship and for piety, and, 
after taking a good degree, became fellow of Magdalen College. 

On leaving Oxford, in 1652, Howe was ordained, and took charge 
of the parish of Winwick, in Lancashire. From this parish he shortly 

358 NonccnformistUiographyj John Howe. 

afterwards removed tx> Gxeat ToixingtoB^ m Devon. Here Howe 
found a sphere in every way cflngeniBl ta.bia mind. Not only was 
there ample scope, foe bia fixia* pceaching gifta,. but« in tbe quiet 
solitudes and lovely scenes with whurli tbe«neighbaurliood abounded, 
he had (v^natanJb inspixationa aiid;bttl£a<to tlutught and meditation. 
Besidesf. ha enjoyed the friendship of. the Smir^ Geoige flughea, of 
Plymouth, a. man of conspioaoua» intellectual ability ana deep-toned 
piety, whose eldost daugliter ha married in 1604. A^'hiJe at 
Torrington, Howo'preachedtlie.sermons/oontained in his two treaiifies 
entitled " Delighting in God " and '* Tbe r^lessedness of tlie Eight- 
eona;'' and, judging from uhatwe^ can gathttt^ irom the records of 
Calamy, his.laU«ura at times must*have been, heavy and exhaiistii^ 
An hour and a-half in the monuugi^atid an^bour and a-quarterin.tL«»^ 
evening is quite as muob^as iM-efieec^dty graacliexa and congr^gationa 
care for. on the Sunday ;. but wtien^^Howawastafc Toriington it v^ns no 
uncommon thing: ta have wvem eoBBecutiFe liiours devoted to 
'' preaching, prayer, and eaposition/' vanad oaly by a few minuka' 
singing, during which tlie minister, retii&d and took a little of some^ 
tbmg *' for, hia stomaek'a sakcL" Tliiai waa certainly " too much of a 
gi)od thing;" but there ia;.no vseson why we should run to tLe 
opposite extreme^ and complain o&.wearinesaand satiety when we 
have been in the.housaof God notumosenthaik balf as long astwe ara 
willing. and evi-n glad, tosit at aa opera on*a/ conaert 

After being but a f eW' year»< at. Xerhng^, Howe ifemoved to 
London. Tlie oiroumsianoes caiinegited: witki.hia removal aie veijr 
interesting, and. affonl a. sinking iUustratiaB. of the dictvm onoa 
delivered by the ingenious author oi " Eudj^mion,'.' that "it is the 
unezpeeted whidi happattti' Howe London in. onler 
to'transaet. somet business^aod on tl)e> Sunday morning' prior to. hia: 
return he attended liivine asii^cexat WfaitebaiL Ciomwell,. whoi 
was^ then. Protector, happeosd to be: presoat; aud» wiiJi that, keea 
gray* eye of his, whish had a* w^ndasfuL ptiwer of. spyingf on6«niea 
fitted for tiigh and respmaiblei postsi .fixed upon. Howe, atueaoled I7 
his noble ' bearing and hia.nia^ificent< presenoe, and, as tfoon as the. 
servicft w«a.o%'er, seoured an. intewiBim wilh him, and> invited him to 
pseaoli on: the. following Suoaday. Ho i s e m o d flstly declined the honour,, 
but Cromwell had. made/ up hisimind that HiDW6>8hookl preash, sad 
it'was of little nseto.aigne againatihis wisb. The Brotfeetor pleaded 
until he gained, his. poinl;^ Hmmi paeacdiedlab^Wliiteball, and.tkar 

Nonconformist Biography: John Ilcwe. 359 

camsequeocc was that he. was asked to becoma/ CiDmwcirs domestio. 
diaplain,. which, aftec man^txhjeetioim.on his.pai±,.aiul much pressing, 
on tbapart of theL£rot6ctor,,he ooosaiited to do«. 

Th&posuicn which Howa was. thus, induced raluctaDtly to accept 
was. certainly na ainecuze ; on., tha contrary, it was a position o£ 
uniiBual avduousneas and delicacy. Not only had be to discharge the. 
onliuaiy duties of a Court f i^acher, but. La had to be Cromweils. 
c'lief adviser and helpenin relation to. alLreli^iousand ecclesiastical 
niHtters which, in thHt " era of sects. and schisms/' required, for thrar. 
BPttlement and control. the utmost sagacity', diligence, and dextmty. 
So far as we can learn, Howe fulfilled aU. the. duties of his difficult. 
office with a prudence, a fidelity, and. an. unselfishness that never 
fdiled.and never flagged. Although surrounded, even at the. Court of> 
the austere and devimt Cromwell, witli temptations to time*serving/ 
and perranal nggrandizemeut which, by their subtlety, would have, 
(uensastered most men, yet. "' never," says the- historian, " can I find- 
Iiim so much as chai-ged, even by those, who/ have. been most forwaxd. 
to in vei^ against a number of his< coi)tenipr>ruries,.with improving, 
his interest in those who then had tfae'.management of affaire in their. 
Iiandfl, either to the enrichiug himself, or. the aoing ill offices to others^* 
though of known different sentiments. He readily enibmced every 
ooiasion that ofiered of serving the int^iest of. religion and learning,: 
aod.opposing the errors. and desi^pia: which at that, time tbrei^ned. 

Did our space permit, it. would be easy to.oitt; many individual 
instances of. what Calauiy has. thus stated generally. It. is evident 
that Cromwell himself had. the. highest appreciHtion of Howe'sr 
dismieieBtedn:{saandint^rity;icuvalthoii^h.onjnore than oneoccasism/ 
openly opposed and rebuked by him; yet he felt constraiaed to paw. 
upon.him the» following encomhim : ^" Mr^. Hawe^ you have obtained. 
many favours for others; I wonder when the- time ia tOiOomecUutt 
you will aolidt aujrthing for. y ou]B«»l£ or your. family." 

For soaoe^ time, before the death o£. Cn^mwell, Howe had beoamsf 
utt^ly. weary' of his \\Sa at Whit^-hall. . HisMtime and attention wese \ 
oceupisd.with so many mattess that wess-net^xl a direeUy spiritual ok 
religiiius kud, be found so. few opportanitiee of doing good ia oom^ 
parisMi with: what hceiopeetedJio find,, and t)4eiBiwaaso much around*. 
him day by^day to: chnfeand fret his •tcooder-anl 8en9itive.spirit^<th»k» 
he longed to be back again amongst the people he had loved and lefti 

360 Nonconformist Biography: John Home. 

at Torrington. He wrote to Richard Baxter for his advice, and, 
owing to the earnest entreaties of that eminent divine^ he was induced 
to give up his intention of resigning his chaplaincy. Shortly after 
this Cromwell died, and was succeeded in the Protectorate by his son 
Richard, but Howe, probably out of regard for the new Protector, who, 
notwithstanding his unfitness for bearing the responsibilities of the 
empire, was a man of many excellent moral qualities, did not, as 
might be expected, retire at once from Court, but continued there 
until Richard Cromwell was deposed. 

Being then freed, not by his own will, but by the force of circum- 
stances,, from his situation at Whitehall, Howe immediately, and with 
a joyful heart, returned to Torrington. For a while he laboured there 
with great gladness and in unbroken peace. Then the storm of 
persecution set in. With the return of Charles II. came the restoration 
of Episcopacy. The ministers who had been ejected by the Lord 
Protector were reinstated and their successors expelled. Every 
member of Parliament was compelled to take the Sacrament according 
to the forms of the Anglican ChurcL All members of corporations 
were required to be members of the Church of England, and to take 
an oath to which even not a few Churchmen demurred. ^ The Solemn 
League and Covenant ^ was ordered to be burned by the common 
hangman. Some of the harshest laws of Elizabeth's reign were 
enforced. Independents, Baptists, and Quakers suffered. Philip 
Henry was indicted at the Flint Assizes for not reading the Book of 
Common Prayer. John Bunyan was cast into Bedford Gaol for 
preaching to forty persons without the special licence of the King. 
John Howe, because of his prominent position in the service of the 
hated Cromwell, was incessantly watched by the emissaries of Charles, 
and was at length arraigned before the magistrates for having 
preached two seditious sermons ; but there was not enough evidence 
to warrant his conviction. 

Isolated acts of persecution, however, were not sufficient to satifify 
the bigotry of the prelatists ; and so in 1662 was passed ** The Act of 
Uniformity/' which declared that every beneficed clergyman who 
would not give his " unfeigned assent and consent to all and every- 
thing contained and prescribed in and by the Book, entiUed the 
Book of Common Prayer," should be ejected from the Church, 
and his ^ecclesiastical benefice be void, as if he were actually 

Nanconfarmtst Biography: John Howe. 361 

On the day that this cruel Act came into operation Howe preached 
for the last time in the church at Tornngton, and then, like Abraham 
of old, he, with about two thousand more, " went forth " by faith, 
*' not knowing whither they went." For some years Howe wandered 
from place to place, preaching whenever he could find a place to 
preach in and an audience to hear him, and doing anything whereby 
he could support himself and a numerous family. During this 
period, he must have suffered at times severely. There can be little 
doubt that the description he afterwards gave of the lot of the ejected 
ministers was a passage fix)m his own autobiography. "Many of 
them," said he, " live upon charity ; some of them with difficulty 
getting, and others — educated to modesty — ^with greater difficulty 
begging, their bread." 

In 1670 Howe went to Ireland and became chaplain to Lord 
Massarene, ^of Antrim Castle. Here he stayed five years, never 
hiding his Nonconformity, but yet comporting himself with such 
grace and dignity that he was allowed by the bishop of the diocese 
to preach in the church at Antrim once a week. His residence in 
Ireland seems to have been a very happy one, and, in the quiet and 
freedom from pecuniary care which it gave him, he wrote some of his 
best works, notably the first part of his " Living Temple." From 
Antrim he went to London and took charge of a Presbyterian congre- 
gation. Here his splendid ability and his amiable character soon 
won for him the friendship of some of the most distinguished 
ministers of the Established Church, and the prospect before him 
appeared to be one of uninterrupted usefulness and joy. But, alas ! 
the '' Declaration of Indulgence " which Charles had published, and 
which had afforded some protection to Nonconformists, was revoked, 
and persecution again became widespread and rampant. Every 
method that ingenuity could devise was adopted in order, if possible, 
to crush Nonconformity. The utmost severities were resorted to, 
even at the instigation of the so-called successors of the generous 
Peter, the large-hearted Paul, and the gentle John, and many of the 
prisons were filled with unoffending victims. For a considerable 
tune Howe was virtually a prisoner in his own house. To have left 
it, even in the daylime, would have been to endanger his life. It 
was a trying period, but it was not altogether without its compensa- 
tions, for in the solitude in which it compelled him and his family to 
live he found opportunities, which he might not otherwise have been 

3.62 Koncofi/ormist Biografjky: J^fthn Home. 

aUa to^aeoire^ of piBpanug sevesal^ of.hia smaller tTeatises for the 

In. 1685 Howe was greatly gladdpned by reeeiving an invitation to 
travel on. tha Conlinent with Lord Wharton. This invitation he 
accepted without delay* In company with Lord Wliarton, he visited 
many of the most famous Eumpoan cities, and then, hearing that 
persecution was still r^nng took a boanling-house »t 
Utreoht, and endeavoured to ser\'e his* Divine. Master by preaching 
occasionally at the English, chmch, and by offering his judiuious 
counsel and his valuable help to English stuJenus at the university 
preparing for the ministry. 

In theisame year that Howe left England, Charhs II. died, and 
was succeeded by his brother, James II. This king was a zealous 
rapist, and, with fv view to obtain greater freedom for his co- 
religionists, he puViHshed a '* Declaration of Liberty of Conscience." 
Hawk's congregati«»n in London at once desired liim to return, and 
with their, request he hastened to comply. The worst had n«w come 
ami gone* The inglorinu-? reign of the second James abruptly close'!, 
and William, Prince of Orange, to the great joy of every Protestant 
liaart,. ascended the throna Early in his. reign tl^ Tolei-ation Ace 
''\'a8 passed, ami fro:a that day till now r-ligious freedom has grown, 
and. continues. to grow. Some ihing^ are still neces.'^ary to its com- 
pletion, hut the attainment of. these, we: have ample grounds for 
beiifving,,iB;not f^r distant. 

Veiy soon after the p&ssiug of the Act of Toleration, Howe's healtli 
began tagive way, and it was^evident* to thosa who knew him. that 
lus earthly course was nearly run. In 1702 he published the second 
|)trt.of. his. '* Living Temple/' and in* I7.<^5. he sent to the press a 
treatise on." Patience Jn Expectation of Futnre. Blessedness.'' This 
was^ the. ]a.<«t work he. wrote, and it; farmed a beautiful close to a. 
beautiful life. 

" His deaths gradual in its approach^ and longf'treseen, was f such as. 
might be expected from the, character, of his mind and the calm 
tenor of his life. He was. a total stranger to the raptures into 
\rtikh.same have bt^en transported in. that hour, and equally so to 
those alternations of light and darkness, of. hope amPiireid, which now- 
raiad.the.sQuLto. the very gxte of. heave a. and uow fill it withdespiir. 
Ha was. full of joy and, hope.;. but it. was joy and hope serene and 
uofalteriog." Alauy, of hiar. friends, auon^t whom wss Bichard 

Stewards, 365 

Cromwell, visited him, and. to all ha. spoke ia words: of calm faith, 
radiant hope, and settled peace. On Monday; A^ril 2nd, 1705, at 
tha ripe old age of sareaty-six, he* fell asleep in Jesas, and heaven 
received ite own. 

To enter into any details respecting^ Howe's person, character, and 
writings would far exceed the limits of the present paper. A brief 
quotation in regard to eachiof these points must suffice. 

i^ 8 to his person, Calamy, who was. well acquainted with him, tells 
us that " he was very tall and exceeding, gracef uL He had a good 
presence, and a piercing, but pleaaanteye; and them was that in his 
looks and carriage ttnt^disoovered that' he had something within that 
was uncommonly great, and tended to excite admiration." 

As to his character, Henry Sogers,, hia best biographer, says: " If 
it were asked, What waa.tbe chamoteriaiio. peculiarity of Howe ? we 
should probably not em in- replying; tiiat it consisted in the complete 
absence of all ordinnxy peen liar i ties; in the exquisite harmony of all 
the faculties, which is* the rarest, and yet the noblest, perfection of our 

As to his writinsrs, Eobert Hall, whose mind very much resembled 
Howe's, declared that, " as a minister, he had derived more benefit 
from John Howe than from-all' other divines'put together." 
' With the memoir of such a mfen as^ Howe before us, we are led to 
exclaim with the; suoett-* 

"Howoomplieate, bow wondofarisinaii !' 
Hfaw piMMiig waiid«r,fiii wliu iiUHl».him BOdk If* 

B. Wilkinson, F.GiS. 


LILY fair, and. of maiesiic mien,. 

Of aUiiilfSB purity and lovelinees, 
Reigns in my Utile plot of gardea groun ^ 
The south wiml j^ently stirred the Ifly iiaeen^ 
And she'raApond^d to^thtMHift'oimm, 

I fhioQuit^QiiaMy^ ptifamsimmdi 

Christ and the Child. 

In sombi« mood of tetroapective thought, 
Beaeath the belfiry-tower I stayed my feet ; 

When on the longing, thintj aii of night, 
Saddenlj each melodious throat flung out 

A Bhower of silTery music, heavenly Bweet, 
Changing all thoughts of sadnesa to delight 

Qazing at midnight into heAveu'e expanse, 

I saw a Yieion in the northern ak^, 
Perfect in luatre, yet^ not satisfied 

To enwrap itself in its own mdiance. 
Floating ita glory-mantle royally, 

And Bcatteiing floods of brightness fu and wide. 

The lily, bending to the wind of heaven, 
The church bell ringing to the summer night. 

The comet, hanging in the atar-lit ekies, 
All freely give of what to them is given — 

Sweet perfume, thrilling music, heavenly light : 
My heart, mlt thon not go and do Ukewite 1 

C{[risi attb i\t C^. 

HE accounts given us by the evangelista concerning 

Christ and the little child contain, when blended 

together, an instmctiveneBS and completeness of scene 

which, in the sense we mean, is pleasing and strilriiig. 

The circnmstances were these. The disciples and thar 

Master were returning to Capernaum after great events that had 

occurred ; but, on their way, a spirit of rivalry broke out as to who 

should be greatest in the Kingdom of heaven. The light of the 

Transfiguration yet dazzled the eyes of the chosen three who had 

been permitted to be present at the hallowed spot The voice from 

heaven still echoed in their ears. What our Xxiid had said a Uttle 

earlier to Peter, in response to his confession that He was the Christ, 

no donbt was remembered by the impulsive disciple. Surely, they 

thought, we are the favoured ones. We shall have the highest lank 

in t^e coining Kingdom. How Jewish imagination was working, and 

what a tme touch of human nature do we find 1 They little thought, 

like many now, that Christ knew their disputes. When they canw 

Christ and the Child. 365 

to the house, to correct them, and to teach a lesson to His Church for all 
ages, Christ took a child — perhaps Peter's child — and in a threefold 
fonn inculcated on them the true child-spirit they were to cultivate 
and admire. Matthew tells us He called the child, and, placing him 
in the midst, spake of the nature and example of child-likeness. 
Mark adds that after this He took the child in His arms as though 
He would show the sentiments of tender affection He cherished for 
all those who possessed the child-spirit. Then Luke finishes the 
picture by describing that Christ finally placed the child by His side, 
as though He would suggest the honour that shall belong to, and be 
conferred upon, all those who, thus distinguished, are members of the 
Kingdom of heaven. 

A study of child-likeness in these connections may perhaps 
have a useful freshness. We must, of course, define between tlie 
child-spirit and what we are familiar with as child-weakness. 
It is not childishness that is commended. We know, for instance, 
the attraction which trifles have for a child; the ascendancy 
of miscellaneous desires that have to do with appetite ; the want 
of judgment noticeable; readiness to barter away even valu- 
able things for any more showy, though of lesser worth; the 
fears and hindrances which little difficulties produce; the fretful- 
ness, impatience, and petulance frequently found. These we rule 
aside. Tliey were not the qualities to which our Lord referred. 
But there are distinctions which, when we name them, may be 
immediately recognised as those our Master designed. Qliere is 
humility. No great ambitions harbour in the child's heart ; no proud 
assumptions, no arrogant invidiousness. Reverence sits upon its 
brow, and is cherished in its breast. No undue setting up of self, 
but deference for the opinions of others. With this there is meekness 
and lowliness. No scheming selfishness, but gentle manners and 
pleasant ways that charm an observer and engage regard. There is 
simplicUy in the nature of the child. No double meaning, no tortuous 
policy : a directness of thought and feeling, not yet spoiled by the 
world's sophistry. A crafty man may take advantage of this, if he 
be shameful enough to do it. Hence, a child may be easily misled. 
Deceitfulness is not detected by the open, frank, and genuine spirit 
with which he deals. So there is sincerity. Instinctive truthfulness 
shines in the bright eye, and is stamped upon the fair brow. Pwrity 
adorns. No tainting thoughts sully imagination ; no corrupt desires 

366 'Christ wtd the Child. 

infest the beaot. '' Pme 'as tbe beaveitt «re {he xloacb'sre bam," flit 

beauty of innooeirce £9^ bloom not ^yet lost. Wordsworth sayB, vbA 

it is largely true, 

''.Beavtn IwalioottiaiiiJCiirinlinAy.'" 

JVu«^ and /€2^ dependmfx add *their mai^. To higher wisdom and to 
.greater strength the eye and heart are directed. Goidanoe is willingiy 
received as felt to be indispensably needed ; and confidence is placed 
where it is felt to be rightfully demanded. Teadutbleness will lend 
its ready ear whilst 'inquiry 'multiplies its questions ; and docile 
Mttention will prove its imprsBsibleness, liioe the -spirit breathed in 
.Samuel's words, " Speak, Lord, for Thy ^servant heareth." A tshiid 
has no diflBculty in believing a parent's word ; and eoDsy eonUeniTMni 
with arrangements made, soonpleaaed and glad/will show axheerfttl, 
restful disposition. Pwgivingndss will distinguish. Hence tbe 
apostle says, " In maBce be ye 'children.** A child's quarrel is soon 
over. No fierce i^sentments, m> settled hatreds'temain. All is sood 
peaceful and rippling with happiness egain. Ok{£iffis» -will add 
attractiveness ; submission to the right, and uncomplaining ^sunender. 
No questioning in the spirit -of wilful*Tesistance,but^pnraipt ^yielding 
to desires expressed. With all this there will be love. Love that is 
immediately won by] kindness, and will show its sweet a9lecti0DBteiier& 
in the gratitude and deviaes /of a responsive spirit — love that will 
cling to the object of 'attacbmetlt, fed its great delight in its fellow- 
ship, and -ever with prompt lip be^propared toown its indebtedner 
and avow its devotion. 

How beautiful is the true chQd'Spirtt as thus described ! Wlnt & 
protest against' the woxds selfishness, hatdness, 'and duplicity ! What 
a recall does it suggest from crooked ways and perverse doings! 
What a csilming, refining, ekrrating influence does a family exercise 
where this prevails I 'What -arefnge it»r a weary heart, -and from 
undue care, does it pfesent 1 In b -quieting,' uplifting power, special 
blessings from heaven seem 'ol)taiiiBrile tiiera if audi k disposition 
animated His disciples, ourXoid shows it would check their envious 
gnidgings. In their relation to His Kingdom, in the "sefvioe'ftey 
would render, in the example tfaay would exhibit, in the dnleousseas 
they would show, it would 'be a source of union, *pea8e, vvA 
fellowsbip-^a token of atkoofanieilt to Himself, and a {Mgs qT 
submission lo His will. How^fitiing the prayer whieh a'|x»et'sworQi 

Christ and the Child. 367 

• "Tionl/l would be a child «t heart, 
'AlthoiQ^lija inaa' in yean "- ! 

Mark noir t^Us 113 that Clirist took the child in His arms. The 
action indioatea— <aiid the word used impltes it *ah»— -iBoder 

Christ loves the chiH-*pirit beeaose of its inherent excellence. 
There are'some things that win approval because of accidental xir- 
Gumstances connected with them. The xolouring, the ijnsel, catcli 
tlie eye. They may not be of worth in thcmscdves, but their acceB- 
sories give them pioniinenxse, or some oonventdonal estimate may 
attend tliem. They are popular for 4»he day, and so .lifted into 
notoriety. Perbapsrsome novelty makses tbem^attractive ; onome ex- 
pediency may Iteserved. Not thus withthe disposition Christ com- 
mended. There is essential worth. The bloom: of heaven ^seenis to 
rest on these elements of character. They arevaluable for.tbeirrowti 
sake. It is an excellent spirit as contrasted <wich the world iBtround. 
What disorders and distFes^^es have. contrary, dispobitnms ptodueedl 
How they have separated Mends, wrecked fiamilies and oationB/aod 
spread btighting and cursing infitieneeBon'Cvery^side I Tb^x^hild^spirit 
would alter all this. It is a blessing tonany human life posseising it. 
That heart would not be r<fcked by contending pesnious where this 
reigns. There would be no •preying upon it ortheTulturesTofieniofse. 
No demon shadows would darken t^tere. Peace, rest, satisfaction in 
God, and comraitralin th« path of duty of 'all interests to Him, would 
be found. This spirit is akin to Christ's own. There are said to be 
likenesses of Christ that have come down to us from the Beoond nnd 
tliird centuries, copies of which have been'obtained at great care and 
cost. Some of these have just been published in a work — the life- 
toil of Mr. Heaphy, who has died before they*cou1d be 'gi^n to the 
world. We may look upon them with deep interest, but cannot tell 
whether they resemble the physical features of our Lord. But we 
take the portraiture of the child-likeness, and, looking to the evan- 
gelists, we are in no doubt at all that this is aspirirual likeness of 
Jer^us. As He went about doing- good, who could trace any pride of 
]>ower or position in Him'? As He placed Himself on a level with 
the poorest, who does not marvel to think that, though He was in the 
form of God, He made HimsHlr of no Tepntation, and there was no 
respect of persons "with Him ? As power goes forth in His words, 
v^ho does not feel the simplicity and directness of His diaract^r 

368 Christ and the Child. 

and teaching, and how there never could be concealment or deception 
with Him ? As He submitted Himself to the Father's will, who is 
not impressed by that obedience which was unquestioning and 
complete ? As love shone out amid opposition and hatred, who does 
not admire the gentleness and patience with which He endured? 
Standing in the midst of the ages He exclaims, " Learn of Me, I am 
meek and lowly in heart." Christ had chosen the child-spirit as His 
own, and therefore like would love its like. This, moreover, wherever 
it is proved, will be the result of the Divine inworking. Only as 
the fruit of the Holy Spirit will such qualities be implanted 
and possessed. Pride springs from seeds of evil which, though 
unapparent in children, yet exist and will be sure to manifest them- 
selves. Germs of all sin are in the heart, and as years advance they 
will be sure, inwardly or outwardly, to become evident. How can 
they be subdued ? How can corrupted nature be made pure ? How 
can renewal in the spirit of our minds be effected ? Only as God 
re-creates. But this is His work. And when changed into a little dbfld, 
when we are " His workmanship in Christ Jesus," then Christ loves, 
in us, the Divine result. The artist looks with interest on the product 
of his device and skiU. His picture has often been with him in his 
dreams. The sculptor looks with pleasure upon the graceful hmbs 
and expressive features of the statue he has chiselled. So Christ 
will look with a smile upon the fruit of His own work and love. With 
such sufficient and intelligible reasons, we can understand what Christ 
s}rmbolically meant when He took the child in His arms. 

Luke adds to this, and it completes the tableau, that Christ set the 
child by His side. We need not go far to comprehend the meaning of 

For one thing, Christ would vindicate the spirit He. commends 
against the world's scorn and contempt. The world's heroes have 
been often of a very different character. Some Tamerlane or 
Alexander, some Caesar or Napoleon, who has deluged lands with 
blood, and laden the air with sighs, has been the favourite of many. 
Some Astor who has built up a colossal fortune, or some Bothschild 
able to dictate to kings and rule the exchanges of the world, has heen 
the wonder and envy of others. Or, it may be, some bold successful 
schemer is the idol, or some self-indulgent profligate, or some loud- 
voiced and confident sceptic, who would destroy our trust in truth, 
and leave us in tears to say : " They have taken away my Loid." 

Christ and the Child. 369: 

Men of meekness and love — ^the Melanclithons,the Baxteis^the Howes^ 
the Flavels of the world — ^have been too often neglected. But though 
no trumpet sounds before tham^ and no herald makes proclamation^ 
these are the men who have the patent of Heaven's nobility, and 
whom the King delighteth to honour. "* The Lord hath set apart him 
that is godly for Himself.'' And when the cloud passes, the righteous 
shall shine forth a " manifestation of the sons of Grod." Our Lord 
means, moreover, that an assurance of His present fellowship and 
blessing shall be enjoyed. Unknown to worldly favour, the children 
of God have yet meat to eat that might well be described 
as '' angels' food." A consciousness of the Divine presence 
has sustained and comforted them. Samuel Butherford, in the 
time of his imprisonment at Aberdeen, could write as if it waa 
a time of bright sunshine as to Divine enjoyment, " My Lord Jesus 
is Icinder to me than ever He was ; it pleased Him to dine and sup 
with His afflicted prisoner. A King feasteth me. I would not 
exchange my Lord Jesus for all the comfort out of heaven." Normait 
McLeod, a few hours before his death, said, " In this hurricane I have 
had deep thoughts of God. I feel as if He said, ' We know one another* 
I love you, forgive you ; put My hands around you.' Happy thought. 
Thou art with me." Charles McKenzie could say, '' I have been with 
Christ all night, and to-day I am ready for anything." Great peace 
had these ; inward strength, as the Apostle Paul had, when, after he 
had stood before the most cruel and ferocious man, perhaps, the world 
has ever seen, he could write, " Nevertheless the Lord stood by me.!' 
When we feel we are at Christ's side and He is with us, all trials and. 
sorrows can be endured. 

Let us add that this action of Christ would be a token and pledge oC 
glorious destiny. The child-spirit shall be the distinction of heaven.. 
Without the imperfections that enfeeble it here, for they are *' with- 
out spot before the throne of God," it shall be the permanent spiritual 
beauty of the saved. Simplicity, sincerity, obedience, love, glorified^ 
shall be the lasting characteristics of those who for ever shall serve 
night and day in His temple ; and, whatever else may be meant,, 
surely nothing could be more appropriately designated than this, the 
'* mark of the Lamb " upon their foreheads. How earnestly should 
we inquire concerning ourselves, then, in view of the words '' Except 
ye be converted and become as little children, ye cannot enter into 

the Kingdom of heaven " ! What a powe^ of witness for Christ will 


370 Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 

fiuch tE Hpixit 1)6, wad wliat ji .floniNB jof nsit^, icomfioart^ nod ^oy in 
ChristiaQichiixdies! ItiioiddbeiLfiadllung^Mgr wftSi^^ 

^ XVs .litlie joy 
.12olnoiw.rmiEffilhBr^ from he«fSA 
Than ichcai I was a boy.** 

Need any one say .this ? Nay, not if we |;iyje joam to iSbat Divine 
power within £he 'heart that «baU renew and jsanctdfy our Tutoa. 
Not if we live near to Him who has left us His .example. Notilw 
now prove His nighty influence upon lis with l^om, in the feOffW- 
ship of iieaven, xmr joj shall Jbe eternally complete. St. IbflL 



'''Every pmpose is establiiBiied by coimseL'' — Solouon. 

''8ee it in tfartin LttCherl He litu ajmrpoaey Gial mitm'M mn. That pmpoie 
is the aoquiaition of fcnowle&ge. He hae a ^pwrpam^ ihost wMUar iff Sff»L 
That pnxpoae is tlieiliioavexy cf tmllL JBe hoBM-prnpaeefikai A^tsfuHm-mniL 
That pnrpaae is the.B0f(mn«daiL'''--rItoiMiBDS. 

** That quality [a fixed pnzpose] will do axyrthing Jkhat nai Jhe doni in ihii 
world ; and no talents, no circomstancaa, no opportonitieSy will juake a tiro- 
legged creatoie a mum without it"— ^gzion. 

WAS talking jume time since with -a 4pi% ^end. He 
was a jman of great intelligenne and enef;Qr« uad had 
employed both his intelligenne and jauagsjda ihe^sewioe 
of Chnst and His Church. He qpdke with £ifiat inteiBst 
and tenderness of the chusch of which lie was a niemhfir 
and deacon ; and in his utterances there was .one expreasiDn which 
will ever live in my memory. He was jon the borders of tiie eternal 
world, and not e]g>ected to anrvivB more than a £sw.hauzs. His fiuoe 
glowed as tf Che light of heaven we» . reflected igri^ andwiduv- 
prising energy lie «id: "What is nomted is that jayegrJOBembv 
should be fired with a jxurpose. JJh, thai .iluy :tosre .otify JEDOO) ^nxv 
A pukposeP 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers, 371 

Fired -with a parpose ! It is a ^ood motto for Sunday-sdhocfl 
teachers. If tbey were all ifired wit3i a purpose, and so at their best 
in the service of Christ and the yonng, they wonld kindle snch a fire 
as would warm the chtrrch, illuminate society, and work a reformation 
among the boys and girfe, the young men and maidens, of the day. 
Friends of the Savionr, nn^er-sfaepherds of the lambs, let the motto 
live in yonr memories and «hine in yonr experience, and your lives 
will grow sublime, and yourinfluenoe blessed and imperishable/ 

Foti mwA hwoe a jywrpese. Aimless teaching will prove useless, 
perhaps injurious teaching. listening to some preachers, you cannot 
make out what they are driving at, and yon shrewdly suspect that 
they are driving at nothing in particular. And, no doubt, there are 
teachers whose scholars have a like suspicion concerning them. If 
asked at the close -of the school exercises. Well, what have you been 
aiming at in yonr teaching to-day ? they would find it rather difBcult 
to gay whether they bad any distinct aim. This is not worthy of 
their high calling. The children are gathered for a purpose ; and a 
great wrong is done them if that purpose is not aimed at. We read 
of one who, in his simplicity, drew his bow at a venture ; and, with- 
out aiming at any particular person, he managed to kill a king. 
That is no reason why we should draw our bow at a venture and 
shoot at random, when we can draw it with an intelligent purpose, 
and taking a distinct aim. The preacher who aimed at nothing and 
hit it is not worthy of your imitation. 

Tou must have vmnJty in nfmir purpose. Aiming at too many things 
is likely to end in missing them all, or in making but a slight 
impression on any one of them. They have a custom, in some places, 
of glowing a number of different kinds of fruit on the same tree ; 
bat it is found that the variety interferes with the excellence. In 
some cases all the grafts live, but only one thrives ; and even that 
one proves less healthy than it would have proved if the others had 
not been there to rob it of necessary nourishment. If you have a 
variety of aims, it is very likely that none of them will thrive much ; 
but if you have one gmnd aim — ^if you say this one thing I do— you 
may make it a thing of life and ^vigour and fruitfulness. In the early 
days of BundsyHSchools, the taaohei^s aim was necessarily divided ; 
but in these days of general education he can concentrate all his 
eneigy on his own special purpose. And concentration is the secret 

of impression. like Lather, every teacher should be a man of one 


372 Hints to Sunday-school Teachers. 

idea. With the one master-thought in his mind, and the one master 
purpose in his life^ he should make all other thoughts and purposes 
blend with and minister to that one. 

Tou mvst pursue your pu/rpose wUh enthimcism. In order to this 
you will think about it, pray over it, and let it take such possessioB 
of your minds and hearts as to become a passion with you. 
''Blithers," said one who wished to inspire others with his own 
enthusiasm in the service of souls — " Brothers, let us go to Calvary ' 
In the contemplation of the passion, we best Team the secret of the 
mission work/' This was^the true starting-point ; here we find the 
mightiest motive for the highest service. Teachers, let us go to 
Calvary ! In fellowship with the redeeming Christ, our coldness will 
be lost in the fire of His love ; our fear will die in the power of His 
Spirit ; and, with the baptism of the Holy Ghost — a baptism of light 
and love, of fire and tenderness — ^we shall become enthusiasts — God- 
filled, God-inspired souls. It is a poor thing to work ourselves up 
into a fitful excitement ; but oh, it is a grand thing to seek fellow- 
ship with Him who was moved with compassion, and from the secret 
place of His presence to come forth, His heart beating in ooi 
bosoms. His love transfiguring our looks and inspiring our speecL 
Have a purpose ; warm to your purpose ; keep the fire of enthusiasm 
glowing under your purpose; so shall you bum your purpose into 
the minds and hearts of those who are entrusted to your care. It 
shoidd be true of Christian teachers as it was said to be of the 
members of a certain church, that they can " take fire, and hold fire, 
and spread fire " — ^the fire of truth and love and spiritual power. 

Now, if I were asked to say, in a single sentence, what the teadier't 
great purpose is, I shmUd be inclined to give this answer : IT is TO 


They need to be brought into living sympathy with Him ; for, in 
general, they are either ignorant of Him or indifferent to Him, and 
certainly do not spontaneously think of Him as loving and lovabla, 
as setting His love upon them, and wishing them to set their love 
upon Him. They can be brought into living sympathy with Him ; 
understanding His Gospel, and loving His person, very young childiea 
can prove, and have proved, that they are the friends of Christ. 
One such child grew up txom earliest years loving Christ and 
imitating His love in the gentle beauty of her life. Suddenly the 
hand of death was laid upon her; but death wore so flattering ^^ 

Hints to Sunday-school Teachers, 373 

aspect that his presence was not suspected until the doctor said she 
could not live till the morning. " Papa, shall I soon be well ? " she 
asked, after the father had learned the sad truth. " Yes, darling ; 
Jesus Christ is coming to take you to Himself, and He will make you 
quite welL" " Really, papa ! Do you mean it ? " " Yes, darling, 
you are going to your better home ; and you will be at home before 
the morning. You can trust Jesus, can't you, dearest?" "Oh 
yes, papa, with all my heart ! " " And you love Him ? " " Yes, oh 
yes ; but not so much as I should like to." The calm of peace and 
the brightness of her joy continued. By-and-by, as if through the 
door opened in heaven she heard strains which only those about to 
be translated ccoi hear, she said, " Oh, papa, they are beginning to 
sing ! " And then, with a smile that seemed an earnest of heavenly 
beauty, she was not, for God took her. Who can think of such a 
life and such a death and still doubt whether children can be brought 
into living sympathy with the Saviour ? 

And a teacher should go to his class with this living conviction, 
this abiding purpose — ^my scholars can learn of Christ, can love 
Christ, can live for Christ ; and I will so speak to them as to help 
them to do this to-day. In other words, the teacher's duty is so to en* 
lighten, impress, and persuade his scholars as to make them Christians. 
And Christians are those who believe what Christ teaches, who enjoy 
what Christ gives, who do what Christ commands, and who resemble 
what Christ is. What a purpose ! To reproduce Christ in the hearts 
and lives of your scholars, so that they shall be epistles — ^living 
epistles, illuminated epistles— -of Christ. 

To do this you timst brinff your scholars face to fact with the living 
ivords of the living Christ, According to friendly critics, there is a 
general and deplorable want of familiarity with the Divine Word on 
the part of those who have passed, or are passing, through the 
Sunday-schools of the day. If this be true, it is a grievous reproach, 
and calls urgently for a better method of treating the Word of God. 
The whole Bible is our text-book ; but earnest teachers will give 
special prominence to its vital truths, the truths that most clearly 
reveal Jesus Christ, who is Himself the Living Gospel. You must 
somehow, by some means, by all means, do these three things : — 

First : Tou nrnst get the letter of His ivords into the memories of 
your scholars. This will* require tact ; but if you have the art of 
putting things, you will easily so put this thing as to get it done as 

374- Hints to Sunday-school Teaekers. 

a privilege rather than afl an ixkaoma dutj-. Some of ua hare XBaaoii- 
to thank God and to bleaa the memory of oui early instmetoiv 
because we were constrained, in our childhix>d, to treaeure up God's 
Word in the storehouse o£ mtmory. And we always regret, when 
we find, as we frequently do find, those who have passed through the 
Sunday-schxK)! unable to quote carrectly even, '^the salvaticoi texts" 
of Scripture. We do not expect them to be walking concordeaces; 
but we do expect them to *' rememb^ the words of the Lord Jesw,. 
how He said." 

Second : Tot^ must git the meaning cf His words imto Um upder- 
siandingB of yam* 9cholar&, To da thia you must, of coarse, know the 
true meaning yourselves ; and whoi you. know it, and know it well, 
you will find it easy to make it plain, ta the young minds you aie 
called to enlighten. Generally speaking, when. I cannot girasp the 
meaning of a preacher, I question whethar ha knows himself what 
he means ; and your scholars will jjodge efyou sfter the same laehioiL 
It is a great thing to get God'a great idea intoia human mind; and 
if you prove, and paint, and peEsuader— if yoa. explain, simplify, and. 
illustrate — you will da this great and helpful thing. Not much, but 
well : let this be your principle. Be leae ciaeful to travel over auch 
Scripture than to have a little well undesatood. What does the 
Bible say ? That is the first question. What does the Bible mean ? 
This is the next, and not less neoessary,, question. 

Third : Vou must gtt the Unm of His. taards iiUo ths hearU of ytmr 
scholars. This is the hardest thing of all. And. yet your real basinesB 
is not done until you bring youf scholars to £sel somewhat as Ae 
good prophet felt who could say, " Thy word, was found of me, end I 
did eat it, and Thy Word was unto me. the joy and the rejoudng of 
my heart." If you can teach from an illuminated Bible — a Bible 
lighted up by the experience of men,, woman, and children, it will aid 
you in your purposa Some texts, have a merveliously intecestiiig 
history by reason of the influence, they havahad ia opening haiaan 
hearts and shaping human lives ; ande knowledge of thm history will 
coomiend them to the hearts of yoQ£ scholacs. We love God'a Wotd, 
because of what it has spoken... to ua; and we love it all the mors 
heartily when we know haw pracioua it haa been to atber& The 
experience of Lydia, *' whose hoart the lAKl.opaned« that slie attended 
unto the things which were spoken, oi Paul," reminds us that the 
nearest way to the heactarof aeholen ie via heaiius andthat^if v^ 

An Appeal 6f the Benevolent 375 

send up onr tlioQghta' to God in pftayex;. Her will lodge fliem in young, 
hearta wfth saving power. Praj eacfi: iaason teach it^ and 
the Iieaier of prayec wilL make tha wasi lifa to 4ho8S' who hear ik 
from yon. 

The children of to-day will be the men and women of a few years 
hence ; and you may, under Groc^ determine to a large extent what 
kind of men and women they shall be. In the early French Bevolu- 
tion the schoolboys of a certaiii e&tcict formed themselves into a 
band of hope, wore a uniform, and were carefully drilled. On their 
banner there wne this device : ** Tremble, oh ftjrrants, we shall grow 
up!" Our Sunday-echoois famish the finest band of hope the 
woild ever witnessed ; and, as we think of the lessons which they aie 
being taught, and of the spirit with which many of them are beii^ 
inspired, we can anticipate a splendid fature for them, and Urn society 
through tliem. In iioaginalion we Beaar Ihem shouting, as. they 
exercise tiiemselves unto godliness, '^ Tremble, oh enemy, we are 
growing up V*^ Be it uuis to sea that, with God's blessing on our 
labours, diey grow up with intelligent convictions and high aims and 
consecrated lives. " My class for Christ I '' Bft thia the purpose, and 
pcayec of every teacher ! 

^ Sp9^ t0 i)^t J^tXifbfshxA. 

HE Bev. W. Pontifesy of If bodbtock, desires to call the aCtention of our 
readers to a ca«e which hB depcribeff oa buth '* nee«ly " and ''deserving." 
It is that of Mr. Bandle, a Baptist minister at Sutton CoortDey, near 
Abingdon, Berks. Iftom Mr. Poiitifex's It^ttt- r we gather the following 
particnlaTs. Mr. Handle is eighty-two yeare of age, and has a wife 
wh9i8sev«Bty-five. He has laboured in the ministry at Sutton Courtney for 
forty-eight' yvan, not only without receiving any salaiy, but contributing liberally 
out of Ida own scanty resources to the support of tfie cause. The infirmities of 
age have toM disastrously upon the little business by which he has heretofore been 
BUj^orted. The viHaigers are poor, and unable to n'nder him . ny help. Through 
tKskindiresB of some iibingdon friends, he is nrw receiving £1